


Every Breaking Wave

by A_Monument_Of_Cloud



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also it’s kinda fun wow, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Blue Paladin Allura (Voltron), But It’s minor, Canon Temporary Character Death, Denial, Depressed Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone’s stressed, F/M, Flashbacks, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Hunk & Lance (Voltron) Friendship, Hunk is stressed, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, I hope this can somewhat fix it, Implied/Referenced Character Death, I’m terrible at it, I’ve never tagged before, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith in Love (Voltron), Keith is Lance’s confidence, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith’s gone sort of crazy, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) Is Not Okay, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is Missing, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron)-centric, Lance is Keith’s stability, Lance is in Love (voltron), Langst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pidge is stressed, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-War, Precious Allurance, Protective Keith (Voltron), Protective Shiro (Voltron), Quintessence (Voltron), Red Paladin Lance (Voltron), Shiro (Voltron) is a Good Sibling, Shiro’s just trying to be a good older brother, Song fic, Sort Of, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Tired Shiro (Voltron), Veronica is pissed off, Violent Thoughts, Worried Keith (Voltron), boy’s really unstable, but my own way, but not really, can you tell, klangst, rip Lance’s character arc, there’s also some
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26759725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_Monument_Of_Cloud/pseuds/A_Monument_Of_Cloud
Summary: This story is about the difficulty of giving yourself completely to another person, being addicted to a sort of failure and rebirth and the fight to break the cycle.Sometimes we don’t know what we have until we lose it, and we don’t know what we want until we’re forbidden from having it. And when that bucket full of icy water drops on our head it feels like we’ve been dumped into a rebellious ocean, in an impossible fight against the tide.Well, sometimes to reach the shore you have to let the tide drag you away first....Lance disappears. Keith will turn the whole universe upside down if he has to just to find him. They both learn the lessons they have yet to learn the hard way.
Relationships: Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Allura & Coran & Hunk & Keith & Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt & Shiro, Allura & Lance (Voltron), Allura/Lance (Voltron), Coran & Lance (Voltron), Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron), Lance & Lance's Family (Voltron), Lance & Rachel (Voltron), Lance & Veronica (Voltron), Lance & Voltron Paladins
Comments: 24
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii, I don’t really know what to say. This is my first fic here on ao3 and for Voltron in general (I’m only a couple years late for the party hahaha).
> 
> Well, if it comes to it you can call me by my Internet name Cloud ^^
> 
> This fic will be updated every time I manage to finish a chapter ofc. I’m a college student so my schedule’s a bit hectic but it’s a challenge and I’m all for it! :D
> 
> For now, well... Enjoy! I enjoy writing and hopefully you can enjoy reading it!

_ ** EVERY BREAKING WAVE ** _

**(Chapter 1)**

** Every breaking wave on the shore | tells the next one there’ll be one more **

  
....

_There’s something about the universe that seems to continuously grab at everyone’s attention._

_ Maybe it is beauty that has caught the eye of humanity for all its lifetime, with its pretty stars shinning against black at night. Maybe it’s its infinity, its astronomical size beating against such limited, small minds that no matter how much they grow, can never be great enough to house in all that knowledge. It makes humans feel small. Insignificant. Powerless and helpless. _

_ Maybe it’s the secrets. All there is to discover and learn. All the mysterious ways the universe works. What it really is. _

_ Or maybe, just maybe, the cause of such attraction, of such fascination, is the impossibility of having it at all. The very distance, the knowing none of them could ever really take its essence, its existance and own it, know it, be it. _

_ Well humans have broken the rules. They’ve gone up. They’ve explored a grain of sand in the biggest desert to ever exist. Reached into space and touched it in their own little, big way. _

_ Keith had been to space. _

_ He quite literally lived in space, what with spending more time up there than down on Earth. _

_He didn’t think he’d ever tire of it, for as much as he’d ever see, for as long as he’d ever spend in its vastness. There was just something about it that called him. Like it was never enough._

_ Like staring at a star and knowing you’ll never be able to hold it in your hands. For as much as you earned for such, it would never happen and you learned to accept that. _

_If you can never hold a star then staring at it and silently dreaming of what could be is the most special thing you could ever get._

_ Doesn’t change the fact that it would still be pretty cool to hold a star in your hands though, wouldn’t it? _

...

The sound of tires on dirt was what broke Keith out of his thoughts. 

They were followed by the ordinary _Thud!_ of a car door shutting close. Light footsteps against the gravel and little loose rocks. The creaking of wood getting louder. The breeze ruffling through clothes and bones popping back in place. A deep inhale and soft exhale.

Keith was smiling before he even heard it.

“Ah... what a pity. So young and already drinking. Yet another mullet, waisting its life away... how sad...”

Said mullet scoffed, twirling the golden drink in his glass bottle about, “Said the guy who might be of age but definitely isn’t old enough to drink, let alone have a full stock of these in his fridge”, and he turned around, leaning his lower back against the white railing of the deck, arms crossing and each hand holding a drink- one halfway through and the other yet unopened. 

Keith narrowed his eyes, a sly smirk taking over his lips, “I really could call the cops on you. If anything I’m doing you a favour, getting rid of the evidence.”

Lance’s laughter filled the air and he stepped forward to take the second drink from his friend’s hand. “Geez, always so comebacky! Can’t a guy just make a joke anymore?... Besides, I’m from Cuba and Cuba says I can drink at 16 so shush!”

Keith watched him as he faced the wind and it ruffled through his chocolate hair, soft strands going wild in the lukewarm draft. His new blue jacket resembled a short cape at times when the breeze blew stronger, revealing the boy’s new favorite shirt underneath fitting him snuggly around the torso. The outfit seemed to bring out his blue eyes and the marks underneath them.

He took a deep breath, re-directioning his own purple gaze forward, before his eyes even thought they had the right to roam much more.

  
_Behave, Keith._

  
From the corner of his eye he saw Lance popping the bottle open against the very railing they both rested against. “You know the bottle opener was right here, right? You could have just asked.”

Taking a sip, Lance shrugged. His attention seemed completely taken elsewhere. Keith frowned, finding the energy coming from the younger boy off. It was so un-Lance like to not take the bait and deliver an answer of his own. He usually couldn’t keep his mouth shut, especially after visiting his family. This time, though, his gaze seemed tired, like there was an extra weight pulling those pretty, sky-blue eyes down to Earth. (There had been for a while now, if Keith was honest with himself).

Looking over his shoulder, the half-galran found him staring at the sky.

Keith felt the corners of his mouth tugging down on their own. He quickly took another sip to mask it and stared at the bottle. Cider. Apple cider. Lance was crazy for it and always had some at home. It was sort of adorable how the boy couldn’t really decide which was his favorite- apple or pear- so every time they drank some he would excitedly announce he’d finally decided pear was definitely the one- only to announce apple was actually the best the next time- and that went on and on.

Except today it seemed...

Keith personally wasn’t very picky. None of them on the team really drank that much. Before going to space as teenagers it never really crossed their minds (apart from Shiro of course). So after they came back down it didn’t really appeal to them either. Most stuff tasted bad and it probably didn’t have that typical shine to it that came to most young people (the being ilegal but still doing it deal). Still it had been two years since then and they all had of course grown and gotten a bit more used to the taste of alcohol.

So Keith wasn’t very picky- not after the whole space cursed Nunvill- after Nunvill everything tasted good. But Lance loved cider and sangria, probably the latino in his blood that last one. He often forgot how the other boy really shouldn’t touch either yet. It was weird: Pidge was 18 and the one whose birthday had just passed a couple weeks ago; Shiro was 29, his birthday having been a couple weeks before that on the leap day;Hunk had turned 21 in January; Coran.... honestly, no one really knew with the whole asleep for 10000 years thing; Keith himself was 24 and Lance 20.

He blinked. Those thoughts were far from what was important. What was important was that Lance had just returned from a visit to his family in his home country and wasn’t bouncing off the walls, radiating the equivalent to enough nuclear energy to power the world for five years.

That was very wrong. 

Keith had to be patient though, patient and try to talk around the subject hoping Lance would come around and trust him with whatever seemed to trouble him-

“How was your trip? You seem kinda off...”

_ That was exactly what he had been hoping not to do... _

Lance didn’t flinch. He didn’t turn his head further away. He didn’t stare Keith down with one of those looks he often delivered when someone pulled a subject they weren’t supposed to pull. He didn’t seem to react, but Keith noticed because he noticed every little thing about Lance.

“Great. The usual.” Lance said. 

_Not that bad. Keith heard._

His shoulders were just a little too tense and his eyes, though he wanted to look Keith in the face and appear in normalcy, betrayed him as they always would. Over the years, Keith had learned just how to go around every wall behind Lance’s irises. He knew by heart every turn in the dark maze of his pupil. What direction to look first in order to catch Lance’s sight whenever he lied. Right. Left. Right. And finally down, sometimes accompanied by a nervous, muffled chuckle.

He still couldn’t know _what_ exactly was the matter with the boy those times, simply _that_ something was the matter. _Hopefully one day he would._

But back to what mattered.

Keith took a sip-the last of his bottle- and turned to lean his forearms against the railing instead of the small of his back. In the same position as Lance, he could bump their shoulders together. “Yeah, no it wasn’t.”

Lance glared at him.

“What, it’s the truth. You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re one to talk, mullet.” Lance scoffed.

Keith deadpanned at him.

Lance’s brows furrowed. He glanced at the older boy, noticing his expression, then looked away... then back at Keith again, right before he spluttered, his cheeks seemingly aquiring a more pronounced dark colour and a pout took over his lips, “What is it?!”

Keith shook his head, “Lance, come on. You and I both know you love visiting your family. You always talk your way to Kerberos and back about stuff your cousins said, pranks your sobrinhos pulled on your uncle! Do you really think I’m so dense I wouldn’t notice how different you are today?”

Blue eyes blinked at him, highlighted by the soft glow of blue markings on tanned cheeks. Keith had no idea why Lance was blushing at what he said.... was it really something so embarrassing that he could’t even bear to tell Keith?

Keith told Lance everything.

_Well, almost everything._

Lance told Keith everything too.

_Right?_

The cuban huffed, shaking his head. He turned his back to his friend, crossing his arms, pretending to watch the chickens plucker around in their den, “Fine... I’m just... I’m just sad I had to cut it short, y’know... to accompany Rachel and all that... yeah. Yeah, that’s it.”

Keith scrunched his nose. It still didn’t fit right with him that story (and that was coming from someone who had been a certified antisocial for most of his life, sure now he was a bit better, but still...). In spite of doubting the other’s story, especially when Lance had apparently turned around on purpose so Keith could’t see that tick he did with his eyes and corner of his mouth when he lied, he chose to bite the bait and go along for the moment.

“I told you I could go get her at the airport. I’m almost used to her flirting by now. She really is your twin...”

The Cuban shook his head, “No way. She’s my sister, I’d make sure she gets to the bottom of the Mariana Trench if I had to. It’s just... My grandma’s... she’s not doing so well and I wish I could have stayed a bit longer.” He glanced back at the black-haired, wordlessly taking in the hand that had been laid on his shoulder, “But someone had to come, and I had Kaltenecker and the chickens here. Also my parent’s farm needs tending over the cultures and the Juniberries. It was just a coincidence Rachel had her college’s interview this week.”

He glanced at the light gold liquid inside the bottle in his hands, “That’s all.”

Right.

Left.

Right.

Down.

He swirled the liquid around one more time before clearing his throat. This time it was Lance who turned his back to the horizon, half-sitting on the wooden railing, “How was your trip?”

Keith smiled, “Great.”

Lance slowly stared at him.

They broke out laughing.

“You- You copycat!” He declared, and just like that-the tone of his voice, the angle of his shoulders- the mood lifted completely. “Oh, I see what you’re doing, mister!”

It always amazed Keith how one person could change an entire room with just their laughter. Lately that person had been missing, but it was good to know he still lived and hadn’t disappeared for good, faded away.

Seeing Lance’s laughing face was always like a gush of fresh breeze on a gloomy day.

“But seriously,” The blue-eyed boy went on, “How was it?” He asked, taking another sip.

Keith pondered on it for a moment, although he already knew how it really had been, “It was nice. Axca’s really loving it at the blade. So are Zethrid and Ezor. Zethrid’s finnaly easing up on her instinct to crush any new lifeforms smaller than her- which let’s be honest, are pretty much everyone. Ezor’s as giddy as ever. Still could have been better if...”

He stopped to look at the other, trying hard not to notice too much how soft Lance looked listening to his story. He was obviously picturing Keith’s generals doing as depicted, as he often did to whatever people told him. Keith could almost see the next part of his telling reflected in the other’s attentive eyes.

“We helped deliver supplies to a tribe on a satellite on Quadrant Y. You should have seen it... they were these tiny, edgy things. All black with these weird three spikes on their heads similar to pinnaples.”

“So like your teenage, emo, angsty self?”

“Yeah. Like.. what no? I never had spikes on my head...?” Keith brought his hand to feel the top of his head. He didn’t really understand where Lance wanted to get to but the look on his friend’s face was so exasperated he guessed it was another bad case of denseness from his own part. Probably something like that useless ‘Vol’ ‘Voltron’ shout that simply made no sense! Why would you say Vol before Voltron if Voltron already had Vol in it? Quite useless if you ask him.

So Keith went on, not after throwing a frown at his friend, “Also they had no arms and grabbed things with their mouths. It was very weird when the handshake part came...” He hesitated, remembering how disgusting that moment had been, “For a moment I considered pulling a Shiro and just... y’know...”

Lance snorted, “We both know you could never pull a Shiro,” He teased, “You don’t have the hair for it.”

Keith threw his hands up in the end, “I give up! Seriously, what is it with you and my hair? I thought after all this time we’d be over it!”

Lance simply didn’t answer that. He threw his head back, allowing Keith to watch his throat bobble as he downed the rest of his drink. He found himself with an empty bottle being pushed against his chest as Lance jumped off the railing and brushed past him. A tanned hand grabbed gently at his short, raven hair in a red tie as if it were a sample being annalised by an expert.

“Buddy, you had a quiznacking mullet- still have, just because it’s up doesn’t stop it from being one- don’t think I’ll ever let you live it down. What is this? The 1990’s? It should be illegal to have one of these? Think of the children, the poor traumatized children.”

“Well, you’re the only one who ever had a problem with it. Are you implying you’re the children and you’re traumatized?”

One of those teasing, devilish, one-sided smirks Keith hated yet loved so much broke across Lance’s lips and Keith already knew the little shit was about to say something stupid, “Well, why do you think I was so...” He suddenly popped his lips, and then finished in a very British accent, “devilishly resourceful? It’s the trauma.”

_ You really are. _

And then he turned around with a “I’m going to make quesadillas for dinner, be useful to society and put those in trash” before vanishing inside his house, the twilight soft against his back.

And Keith wanted to break out laughing at everything he’d just heard, he really did.

But he could only stare.

...

The night went by in a rush as it always did whenever Keith came to visit, which quite honestly was very often.

They had a quiet dinner in front of the TV as both of them were exhausted from their trips that day. Hadn’t Keith been so tired he’d probably have stood up and demanded Lance make another three doses of those magical quesadillas. It was something so simple but to him (and Hunk forgive him if he were to hear this) Lance’s cooking had a warmth to it that could only be explained by freaking fairy dust on his food or some shit. 

Hunk was and would forever be the best chef in the Galaxy, but when Lance cooked latino food... damn. He really took after his mom.

After that they both went to settle down. Keith cleaned the table while Lance washed the dishes and then helped dry them. Lance’s travel suitcase had ended up on the floor of his entrance hall while Keith had taken his own to the guest bedroom, where he always stayed.

After going through his clothes and deciding he had absolutely nothing clean to wear, Keith had sucked up his pride and sheepishly shuffled into the open space outside the bedroom, hoping to borrow a shirt from the other boy. Lance had gone out to check on the animals one last time (see if everything was alright, if all the cages and dens were well closed) as he always did, so for a moment Keith thought he was out of luck- but then he’d spotted it: a fresh, neatly folded spare of clothes on top of the back of the couch.

He put them on and waited to hear the telltale sound of keys and the front door locking. Lance had then knocked on his door and bid him goodnight, to which Keith had replied with a goodnight of his own.

Lights out.

Keith had turned on his side then, breathing out the stress of the day. He felt exhausted from the latest mission, but for as comfortable and sleepy as he felt then there was a renewed burst of energy in his being that came just from smelling the familiar scent of lemon soap on those bed shits.

He shook his head. _Nope. Not going there._

Denial was a funny thing though. He fell asleep fisting at his T-shirt because _every time_ he forgot his bag was filled with used clothes and _every time_ , without asking, Lance gave him that shirt and those pants of his.

_They’re his and yet I’ve never seen him wear them and they fit me perfectly..._

...

Keith decided he hated cocks every time he stayed at Lance’s- because that damned animal always woke him up at the very same hour every day and one of these days he’d jump from bed and permanently relocate it- he was thinking somewhere far inside the forest next door would do.

However he remembered how Lance was always awake before that hellish creature decided no one was allowed to sleep after the first sunlight shone in the sky. And if Lance was awake it meant Lance’s yummy pancakes.

Keith loved pancakes.

Keith absolutely could not make good pancakes.

He walked into the kitchen stretching, bones popping into place and joints warming up, ready to greet his friend as always... only to find the kitchen empty of delicious smells and energetic people.

“Lance...?” He called, already retreating in the direction of Lance’s room. He stopped at the door and frowned. Maybe Lance was still asleep because he was extra tired from his trip and the drive to Rachel’s uni? Weird, seeing as he always got up early and full of energy after the most tiring days... Or maybe he was getting sick?

Keith decided to check, just to make sure the boy was truly alright and hadn’t been kidnaped by aliens during the night or something.

He creaked the door open and peeked just a little with one eye- enough to make sure he wasn’t crossing any privacy limits and seeing something he shouldn’t see. Then he pushed the door completely open. 

Lance was huddled under his bedsheets, completely tangled in them. He was making weird sounds as he squirmed underneath the warm layers, getting more tangled in them with every toss and turn.

“Lance...” Keith whisper-called. He quietly stepped inside, going around the bed to reach the side the younger boy had his face turned to. Even his ears were covered leaving only his face to be seen from outside the cocoon, a face scrunched up and uncomfortable- his Altean blue markings glowed a bit more with each successive frown.

A nightmare.

He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Lance.” Keith called gently, intent on waking the other up before he could suffocate in the sheets. “Lance, come on, wake up.” He pulled the covers slightly down, revealing Lance’s glistening neck and drenched T-shirt underneath and laid a hand on his shoulder, temptingly giving it a couple shakes.

All of a sudden, Lance was propelling forward with a strangled gasp and, immediately after, both their foreheads were colliding against each other painfully. Keith cursed, rubbing his and squinting in pain. Lance whined, absentmindedly caressing his own, though his breathing was labored and rushed, his eyes completely out of focus.

“Hey... It’s alright. It was just a nightmare.” The half-galra reassured, forgetting his aching skull to hesitantly grab at both of the other’s shoulders. 

Lance slowly let his weight fall forward. He wasn’t sure what exactly was going on, his eyes kept themselves glued to the white sheets and his face was extremely hot even if the air was sort of chilly on his soaked hair. His heart was thundering inside his chest and his every breath just didn’t seem enough.

When he finally realized what had happened there was a surge of anger inside him- he couldn’t even remember what the nightmare had been about, only some mere flashes of white and random scenes. Had been like that for a while now anyway...

“Are you okay?” Keith asked, his arms awkwardly around Lance in a reassuring hug. 

_Wait, hold on a minute, who, what?_

Everything came rushing in. Keith had come from space yesterday. He’d come home from Cuba. They’d talked, had dinner, hung out a bit as usual. They’d gone to sleep. He’d had a nightmare. Somehow, Keith had noticed that and was now sitting at his bedside, hugging Lance out of his bad dream induced panic attack. Keith, who couldn’t in most cases start a hug to save his life, was holding Lance against him and Lance had his face hid deep against the ex black paladin’s neck and was clutching at his shirt and god he could feel his pulse and he smelled really nice and-

Lance suddenly let go, leaning backwards in a rush. Keith’s eyes widened in surprise. God, it angered him so much how the idiot had no idea what he did to Lance.

_No. Nope. No. Não. Nien._ Lance was not going there. He couldn’t. He glanced at one of the frames on his bedside. _He can’t_. A sudden rush of embarrassment and anger at himself. He couldn’t for both of them. _For her. For him. For himself._ It wasn’t even real anyway, but _if it was... would he find me disgusting? Would she? Would-_

Lance didn’t know when he’d jumped out of bed and rushed to his bathroom. His breath hitched and his blood pressure must have been out the charts.

All he knew was the confused look on Keith’s face managed to tear at his heart in just the millisecond Lance had seen it and, locked inside his bathroom with the most important person in his life sitting frozen in his bed- looking like he’d done something wrong-, filling up the bathtub and submerging himself completely in it for the rest of the day had never sounded better.

_You didn’t. God. I did. I always do everything wrong. It’s me. The problem is me._

...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Frustration? Tiredness? Repression of past feelings?  
> Disagreements can break out over the smallest of things. The people you love know the most about you and sometimes even your deepest, darkest secrets, which makes their words the most venomous, hateful ones we can hear. 
> 
> They can really get underneath your skin and clog your heart like no other, can’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyoo!
> 
> Sorry for the wait, if I’m being honest I have no idea how much time has passed since the first update. So I just wanted to explain to you guys something, just so you understand that, if I happen to take time like this updating, it will not be lack of will to write nor poor dedication. 
> 
> I’m in my 2nd year in college, I’m taking a science course so it’s really not an easy one. I’m also taking an english course and have yet another activity besides that. I try to wiggle the three around, adding family and other situations that show up out of the blue and rob us time and that we all have to take care of. You know the drill. So I study all week and weekend during the day. I have tests and dissertations to deliver. At night I always save an hour or two to myself, what I call my “happy hours” or “sanity hours” because they are important to keep myself sane. That’s when I write! But sometimes I have to sacrifice those hours to study more which sucks ;( and that’s why it takes so long sometimes...
> 
> So now you know. I won’t ever make a note as long as this one, and this subject is over.  
> If I take a bit more to update just pray that it comes soon! And also pray for me because I probably need it xD
> 
> Finally, here, the chapter, take it. I cried writing it, both because I hate and suck at writing arguments and fights (oops spoilers) and because... mean words D:
> 
> Enjoy!

** (Chapter 2)  **

** And every gambler knows that to lose| is what you’re really there for **

...

Breakfast had been uneventful, quite surprisingly. 

Well, nearly uneventful.

Lance had taken an embarrassing amount of time inside his bathroom- taking a shower to clean all that sweat; doing his face-mask and exfoliating; combing through his hair so it lost some of its natural curls and waves and rested straighter against his head; contemplating every mistake he’d ever made in his life and the sweet, attractive concept of never having been born; brushing his teeth; reorganizing every shelf of products just because there was nothing else to waste time on- he did it all.

He had taken so long that even Keith- poor, sweet Mullet had silently gone to the door and asked him if he was alright once more. Lance had in fact been alright until then and so after reassuring his friend that yes, he was fine, he’d taken to rearranging his lotions once more just to be sure.

It was a good thing he woke up so early because otherwise they’d be having breakfast by lunch time.

And it made Lance feel so guilty when he finally pushed his cowardice back and walked into the kitchen to find Keith struggling with a pan over stove and the smell of burnt something in the air. 

These were his problems and Keith shouldn’t have to pay for them, deal with them. That was onto Lance and Lance alone. But because of his selfishness Keith had waited that whole time to finally eat when he should have just gone for it instead of waiting for Lance. No. He’d even tried to make them some pancakes when it was obvious he couldn’t.

Meanwhile Lance couldn’t even force himself to leave a stupid, ridiculous bathroom.

_ Pathetic . _

His stomach churned.

_He was pathetic._

“Hey man, thanks for waiting for me.”

Keith looked up from his cooking disaster. It was obvious why he ate toast barely toasted (or as Lance liked to call it, warm bread). The boy just lacked that timing. He was too impatient to wait until the right time to turn the toaster off and if he let it actually toast it would burn because he’d get mad at it for taking so long and decide that he could do something else in the meantime. So Lance saw right through the fake, calm expression and caught the ‘help’ in the purple-grey eyes as their owner desperately tried to get the burnt food to unstick from the pan.

“I tried making you some pancakes...” Keith gestured towards the stove, “ Figured you’d appreciate someone to do it instead for once. Didn’t go that well...”

_Fuck that’s so adorable._

_No. See? It’s thoughts like this that you’re not supposed to have. Just imagine what she’d think- what he’d think if-_

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you...” And then he had to add that dash of sass, otherwise Keith would know he didn’t mean it, “But we both know who should handle the cooking. I guess you just don’t have the hands for it.”

Keith stepped back to allow Lance to take over, “Yeah, Hunk has.”

Lance put the pan in the dishwasher and made sure to make a little more noise than normal. He could just hear that smirk. “Well, maybe you don’t need me to make you pancakes anymore...” He teased, “Just call Hunk and wait a couple days-“

It didn’t take a second before Keith was screeching a desperate no. He loved Lance’s pancakes.

After that the mood seemed to lighten up a bit if temporarily. They sat by the window at Lance’s table from which the sky outside could be seen. Lance watched Keith gulf down the food like an animal (he always ate like that either from his Galra genes or from all the time in the system where what you got you ate before someone else could take- Lance liked to think the first for the second was too sad despite the probable reality) while he sipped his coffee. He wasn’t really hungry, hadn’t been in a while, so he just sat back and munched on a single pancake, pretending to eat for both their sakes.

They talked a little, and laughed quietly. For some reason he caught Keith’s worried gaze after that a couple times, but ultimately decided to ignore. He just wanted to pretend everything was normal,  that he  was normal.

He cleared his throat, “Yesterday,” He began, catching Keith’s attention before resuming speaking, “Yesterday, when I asked you how your trip had been... What else were you going to say?”

Keith’s head tilted slightly, one eyebrow especially arched in question, “About what exactly?”

Lance shrugged, filling a cup with some water, his mouth having become suddenly dry, “You said that it could have been better if... well, if what?”

“Oh...” The black-haired cleared his throat, scratching his head and moving a string of hair from his bangs out of his eyes, “Well... I... It would have been better if you were there too...” 

It was said so simply, albeit a tad carefully and with a trying tone but it instantly made Lance fidget in his seat, imagining himself up in space again, in different planets, meeting different cultures, along with Keith. It sounded so surreal yet what made him nervous was that he didn’t necessarily hate the prospect.

Keith was eyeing him with  a look  but Lance could only squirm in his chair, not really knowing how to respond. It was what his friend said next that made him realize he was frowning deeply.

“Look, I... I didn’t mean it... like that, it’s just-“

Lance shook his head, “No, it’s fine. You didn’t... say anything wrong.” He swallowed, turning his gaze outside, the corner of his mouth curling down traitorously, “Wasn’t even thinking about it anymore...”

The window had little water drops running downwards because of the difference in temperature of the outside and inside and it was, in general, just a bit foggy all over. Outside the grass was greener than ever and the forest in the horizon stood masking the line between the earth and the sky which basked the world in the morning clarity. It was filled with clouds as the raining season always promised and Lance could tell there was cold coming from the colours of that big blue canvas, an old trick his mama and his abuela had taught him.

He was so focused looking up and beyond he hadn’t realised Keith was talking.

“Hmm?”

“I asked what you wanted to do today.” Keith repeated, wiping his mouth with a napkin, his purple eyes boring into Lance’s, awaiting an answer.

Lance sipped his coffee and shrugged, redirecting his gaze out the window again, “I’ve gotta clean the chicken’s dens and milk Kaltenecker.” His jaw clenched for some reason unknown to him, and his breathing seemed to become heavy and forced but it was something that had come so fast and unexpectedly Lance decided to ignore. He couldn’t let his mood waver. He had work to do and it would be a good day one way or another. “Also probably should go check on my parent’s farm, make sure the springers are working just fine and nothing’s clogged, just in case. And it’s going to rain soon so we should get that all done today, I doubt anyone will be able to walk outside with that storm coming.”

“We?”

“Yeah. Who do you think is milking the cow?” Lance chuckled.

Keith’s eyebrows furrowed, “I am not milking the cow.”

Lance stared him with a face of his own, “Yes, you are.”

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are. That milk you just drank had to come from somewhere, y’know?”

“Oh my god. Now I wanna throw up.” Keith gagged playfully. Then he looked outside too, “But really it’s weird to think about that. Did she give you consent to milk her since you have to touch...  there ?”

Lance coughed his drink, “Did you just ask me.... Wait, did you really just ask me that?” When the other didn’t answer his eyes widened and an incredulous smile took over his face, “You really did. I can’t believe this!”

He shook his head, settling back against his chair, “Now I’m really  so  making you milk my lady.”

Keith grumbled, eyeing his cup warily with a dash of tiredness, “Please never word it like that again...”

...

Perhaps it was the weather, perhaps not, but Lance was feeling on edge that day. There was a nagging pressure behind his eyes and just an overall itchy feeling of anxiousness and irritation buzzing under his skin. All in all, he felt exactly in that annoyed mood when it’s about to rain and so you wait for it to start  _but it never seems to start nor ease up._

He’s used to putting that part of his range of emotions behind his back though, and so that’s exactly what he does but it’s a cover that can only last so long.

The chicken dens are first. He does not want to clean it in torrential rain. Keith is helping him from outside, handing him the tools and after the heavy bags with seeds. He carries buckets filled with fresh, clean water from Lance’s well, and also carries away the ones with dirty, muddy water.

Lance is immensely thankful at first. Struggling through the wired fence gate back and forth, having it pull at his clothes and nick his skin constantly was the kind of nerve-racking provocation he does not need that day. He stares often at the sky, trying to relax his breathing and unclench his jaw, and trying to see if the moon is visible on the day sky in between the gathering clouds or not. 

He always catches the raven-haired glancing away when his attention descends to Earth once more but Lance decides it’s best to ignore the crease between Keith’s full eyebrows and the unsatisfied ghost of a frown on the corner of his mouth. Instead Lance chooses to think Keith is frowning at the farm’s cock, which is walking about, eye on the other boy as well. It was hate at first sight for them both. Quite hilarious if you ask him.

So he checks if there are any eggs he might have missed and takes to scrubbing the inside walls of the small houses. Watching Keith’s disgusted face as Lance easily cleans the bird’s poop will forever remain ingrained in his mind. 

They’ve been to space and seen the weirdest aliens, the most horrendous biologies, the smelliest planets and strong, undefeatable Keith Kogane is defeated by some chicken poop.

Then Kosmo shows up and it all comes tumbling down.

Don’t take him wrong, he  loves Kosmo with all his heart , and Kosmo sometimes seems to like him more than his owner (which is a huge blow to Keith’s ego and a huge inflation to Lance’s).

The thing is Lance has a lot on his mind that day- so much it’s taking everything in his being to force himself through the day and not curl up in his bed to sleep the confusion in his head away. Not that it has ever happened. Lance is way too stubborn to relent and take a break. He always forces himself through his bad days and lately there have been a lot of them and too little of good ones. But it’s fine. He’s fine. He can work through whatever this is too.

_You know what it is._

Anyway, back on track. Kosmo is absolutely the one thing Lance didn’t need that day- not because he has to scratch the adorable wolf’s head or squeeze his snout or hug the fury body and call it a ‘burrito’. 

What he didn’t need was to have to watch Keith run around with his wolf, throwing a stick and having the space dog return with a whole ass branch he’d bit off a dry tree somewhere. He didn’t need to watch Kosmo throw Keith onto the ground and see as they rolled back and forth across the grass in an easy play, so different from the more serious environment of a Blade or Voltron mission.

Keith’s black hair slaps against his pale face, his purple eyes glowing with delight. He seems completely detached from the world as the storm, dark grey clouds brew over their heads- maybe that’s why he seems so bright, because the day is dark.

Lance tells himself that.

He’s always had the poor habit of lying to himself but it wouldn’t be so bad if he were, at the very least, a decent liar.

And so he swallows thickly and grabs the things he’d been using to... to uh...... oh,to clean the chicken dens! That’s right. He grabs those things and turns his back to the duo. His heart is heavy, heavier than it has been in a while, and Lance thinks he has to be careful because he doesn’t want it to start raining sooner than it should.

He should have known that was inevitable.

As inevitable as thinking about how young and child-like and burden-free Keith looks when he’s truly having fun.

The image chases him for the rest of the day, adding to the pressure behind his eyes.

_Why?_

...

Rain is a very close promise and so they get in Lance’s rusty red van and head to Lance’s parent’s next.

This is not the car Lance usually rides but yes the one for all the farm work, the one that’s older than him and that has more bumps and dents and dry mud splattered on it than proper paint.

Keith lets his fingers ghost over a couple scratches before getting in the vehicle, silently admiring how old the thing is and yet how its engine still roars to life with a healthy roar. This is no otherworldly van, contrarily, it doesn’t look like much, but it’s the way it still stands after all those years of hard trials and work that get him thinking.

_It takes a special, caring touch to preserve a machine like that for so long._

The farm is around 45 minutes away and they drive in silence. Keith had been feeling pretty good a couple minutes ago, but every second the radio is kept off and every time Lance’s eyes seem to glaze over as he drives, making turns in what Keith feels is habit or instinct or both, there’s an uncomfortable itch somewhere in his body and he wiggles his fingers as his muscles are forced to un-tense upon the realization he’s been stressing them without meaning.

Rides with Lance are never dull but this time Keith can’t wait to jump out of that car. He feels twitchy, antsy, whatever else synonym fit well and for some reason just the blurry form of the boy next to him through the corner of his eyes is too excruciating to take in.

Keith couldn’t for the life of him decide if Lance was too close or not enough.

So as soon as Lance stopped the van next to the McLain’s garage, he’d jumped from his seat and rushed to pull Kosmo from the back of the truck, the open box where there were a couple gardening instruments in a corner and where Kosmo had happily laid down.

The difference between them at breakfast and now, yesterday in the deck and today was so stark it made Keith’s stomach convulse strangely. He wondered if he’d done something wrong but quickly discarded that option- he’d done nothing he hadn’t ever done before, actually he did everything he usually did. They had also spoken the minimum to each other after breakfast, so that couldn’t be it either.

Whatever it was, that animosity, all that ice between them had blossomed on its own.

_You know what it is._

God, or whatever big identity there might be in the infinite universe, forgive him but he couldn’t even look at Lance’s face right then. He needed to get away for a couple minutes, find a spot where the heavy scent of rain yet to fall wasn’t so heavy.

It was disheartening and he couldn’t for the life of him understand why such a mood was going on. They had grown closer the last couple years and he’d thought they were closer then ever. But maybe he’d thought wrong, maybe Lance didn’t want to grow closer, didn’t want what Keith wanted so badly, what he silently wished he could have.

As he spotted the other boy walking towards the pink fields of familiar alien flowers though, part of him couldn’t help but notice how even surrounded by beauty Lance easily stood out as the best part of the scenery- another part of him, the ugliest, angriest, selfish part (the part that had him close his eyes and grit his teeth and clench his fists until moon shapes were left on his palms) flared up. 

It flared up and had him choking on  something  as he watched Lance tend to a single flower with utmost care, like there wasn’t a whole field with possibly millions of them to take care of, as if he  needed  to attend to each one individually. 

It flared up at the way Lance didn’t take care of himself the way he should, the way he treated those flowers, with that same dedication.

It flared up at how unfair it was, how he could never have any of that to himself- that care, that attention, that softness- and he knew he was being beyond egotistical but  _hell he’d never had much his whole life and he’d never wanted nothing more than this was it so greedy of him to feel unsatisfied with what he had now?_

His head was boiling. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, not ever since he’d found his mother and his life had finally been fixed of all its holes. He thought he’d never feel like that anymore but now he had a bigger hole to cover- one he’d dug himself... and on the other side of it was Lance’s unblinking face over the driving wheel- he really couldn’t bear to see the bottom that crater.

_If he’d walked by a mirror, he would have realized that, more than Lance’s face, he couldn’t stand to stare at his own._

...

When the storm arrived it was sudden. 

There wasn’t the single water drop hitting the roof, not even the small, insignificant drizzle at first. No. When it started to rain, it was an authentic cloudburst, a downpour, like someone had woven a gigantic sheet made of water and dropped it upon the planet.

It was an angry, desperate and insatiable cascate.

They had both gotten in the car, smuggling Kosmo on the passenger seat atop Keith’s lap so he wouldn’t wet his fur, which was a struggle given the wolf’s size and had left them both further more down in the dumps and ill-humored than before. They didn’t really speak, only uttering a small exchange of words here and there when they had to. It was obvious to no one that they were both doing their best to not show how peevish they felt.

Kosmo had hurried inside upon arrival, acting like the rain would bite him if he didn’t. Apparently the general aquaphobia earth canines had included the ones from another point in the galaxy as well.

Keith wanted to hurry inside with his methaforical tail in between his legs too. He didn’t really like rain, and it was highly uncomfortable having wet socks inside squelchy shoes, but it wasn’t really the rain he was afraid would bite.

So he had, in solidarity, followed Lance to the barn. He had after all said Keith would be milking the cow and Keith had said no but for some reason beyond him he still followed Lance inside, perhaps expecting to be forced to do the task even if he didn’t want to, perhaps because he thought he knew Lance and Lance would inevitably force him to do it and then laugh at Keith’s expense but at least he would laugh.

_He thought he knew Lance._

Once inside, the cuban greeted the animal, which stood by a corner, peacefully munching over and over on the same mouthful of hay. Keith leaned his back against the wooden wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest, brow lowering as he watched Lance pick up a bench from somewhere and a bucket from the opposite of that.

And then he’d sat down in the perpetually tired posture he’d had for a while now- a shell of what he once was, a shell Keith wanted  so badly to help fill again-  lowered his head and silently, without a word, without a single attempt or provocation Keith’s way, had started milking Kaltenecker.

A deafening thunder echoed outside above a field of pink, altean flowers.

Keith’s eyebrows reached their lowest.

The hairs on his arm rose at the sound.

His chest hurt.

_Don’t do this please you’ll regret it. You’ll ruin what you already have..._

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

_I always ruin everything anyway. Just a matter of time._

Lance’s surprised eyes rose to meet his seething ones.

_I want more than this. I’ve wanted more than this for so long but I can never have anything I want can I?!_

“Excuse me?”

“I said what the fuck is wrong with you?” Keith repeated through his teeth.

_Maybe I want a fight. A good fight like we had in the beginning. Maybe the way things were before was better than this._

_At least it didn’t hurt this bad back then-_

This time it was Lance’s face who closed up, “What do you even mean by that?” He asked cautiously. It had been a long time since he’d heard Keith’s especially heated voice, much more directed at him.

Not today, please don’t do this to me today.

“I mean,” Keith seethed, “you’re not yourself.” He gestured wildly in the direction of the cow, where Lance’s hands had frozen mid task, “You said you would make me milk the cow at breakfast, but now you didn’t even mention it! Just sat and started on it looking like a-“

Lance’s shoulders slowly started to climb, but he still sighed, trying to be patient. Keith was the hot-headed one, not him. Not him. Be the bigger person here. You’re the bigger person in this situation.

_No you’re not, don’t be an hypocrite, Lancey Lance..._

_Shut up._

He rose from the bench, holding the bucket with a bit of milk inside and nudging it in Keith’s direction. “Look if that’s the problem than here you can do it, jeez. I just thought you didn’t want to.”

Keith shook his head fervently, “That’s really not the problem here, Lance.” He warned.

“Dude, just take it”, Lance frowned. He really didn’t feel like dealing with Keith’s sudden bad mood. He had his own to work on. He took another step forward, “You don’t need to be ashamed that you wanna try it-“

“I’m not ashamed.” Keith insisted.

“But it’s fine if you are, I’m not going to make fun-“

“I’m not ashamed...”

He pushed the bucket into Keith’s chest, “-of you, Keith, you’re my friend-“

“DAMMIT LANCE, I DON’T WANT THE DAMNED BUCKET!!!” And in an outburst he knocked the thing to the side, sending it flying from Lance’s hand, through the air, and crashing against a wall where the white liquid splattered in every direction.

Kaltenecker mooed in fright, heavily rushing over to the opposite corner of the barn. At the same time there was a bright blue light flashing nearby. Kosmo materialized beside them, growling and ready to defend his owner only to find no apparent enemy.

Lance’s hand twitched in the air where he had it, still positioned as if it kept holding the bucket. His eyes blinked, trying to wake themselves up from what had to be a dream (a bad dream) and his brow furrowed in pure confusion, trying to comprehend what had just occurred.

Keith’s chest heaved, every breath like fire and he squeezed his lips in a thin line, afraid of his temper, of opening his mouth and having more flames come out- like a dragon effortlessly flying over more or less innocent villages and in a simple opening of his mouth, burning the entire places to the ground. Ash in the wind.

Maybe it was the barn being made of wood, but Keith thought he could smell smoke.

Lance, apparently, did too. His floating, half-outstretched hand slowly closed in the air, forming a tight fist shaking upon being forced to being lowered. His eyes hardened and his nostrils flared.

“What the fuck is wrong with  _you_!? ” He barked, icy, truly icy blue eyes staring a hole in between Keith’s eyebrows.

“This isn’t about me.” Keith growled, quickly reclaiming his own ground, “It’s about you, you haven’t been yourself in a long time!”

Lance shook his head, “What does that even have to do with milking a freaking cow, for God’s sake, Keith?!”

Keith huffed, taking a couple steps backwards, briefly massaging his face in a frustrated gesture, “Can you just forget the freaking cow for a second?! Am I speaking Galran or have you suddenly become dense?”

The other boy crossed his arms, deadpanning, “Last time I checked you were the dense one here.” He threw back, “Can’t expect me to understand something that, I don’t know, you haven’t explained?!” He laughed incredulously.

“Yeah? Well maybe it’s because you haven’t let me finish explaining, have you thought about that?!”

“Explaining? You haven’t gone past the same sentence since this discussion started!”

“And you would have if it were you?”

“Why I would certainly have progressed more than you have, yes-“

“No!” Keith snapped, his irises seemingly sharper, almost animalistic. He was tired of small talk. Lance took a step back, surprised. “See that’s the problem, you wouldn’t! You wouldn’t even have started this, you would’ve just let it drag on!... You changed, Lance!”

Lance frowned, “We all ha-“

“But not like you!” Keith cackled maniacally. The half-galran brought a hand to his hair, grasping at it, “God, not like you!You look like a ghost, Lance! All this time, these two years, I’ve been trying to find the Lance I knew and it’s like he’s dead and I can’t do this anymore!” He stopped, looking genuinely saddened.

It almost made Lance forget how mad he was supposed to be at the other boy, his scowl nearly slipping.

“You’re a shell. You- you walk about.... hanging from your clothes, working like a robot. You cut connections with New Altea! You stopped going to our monthly dinners! You don’t laugh anymore!”

Lance blinked, the fire in his eyes faltering, “I do... We just laughed this morning, and... and yesterday-“

Keith shook his head. He seemed to be having a second argument inside his head, this one with himself. Then, he spoke, softer than before, but still the half-spitted truth he could no longer keep in nonetheless, “You haven’t laughed, truly laughed, with will, in almost two years. Do you have any idea how that makes us feel?”

_How that makes me feel?!_

“It’s almost like, when she-“

Lance’s head snapped upwards, the coldness and distatchment in his eyes returning- but there was something more there, something broken and aching and  above all needing  that Keith’s exploded temper didn’t let him see, “Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” He warned.

A part of Keith didn’t want to say it.

The other was shamelessly enjoying how provoked Lance had gotten at that.

_More. More. More._

_So I touched a wound, huh?_

_How does it feel? Does it sting?_

“Like when Allura died you stopped existing! Like Allura was your whole personality and you have nothing else to live for!” He said.

Lance was staring at the floor, his fists shaking at his sides. He seemed a minute away from crumbling to the ground- or delivering a punch. Keith wouldn’t know. 

_He didn’t know shit about Lance._

“I don’t give a single shit about milking that stupid cow of yours! But the old Lance would have made me do it one way or another!

And before that- I spoke to you about space, space! And you nearly lept from your seat. You close yourself off in here, in  this!-“  He gestured towards the barn door, where they could see pink flowers that looked more grey than any other colour in the darkness of the storm, “You surround yourself with this and wither away! Like you’re some lovesick fool with no dreams or passions!

“Spread her message my ass! What did Allura have to make you this obsessed?! She was my friend too, and I love her and miss her but  you-“  He steps forward to push a finger against Lance’s chest, “YOU ACT LIKE WHEN HER LIFE ENDED YOURS DID TOO, LIKE SHE WAS A GODDAMN GODDESS YOU SOLD YOUR FREAKING SOUL TO!”

_SLAP!_

A thunder boomed outside.

Keith’s face was pale in the white light that lit the sky outside, forcing its way inside the barn through the cracks in the wood boards. But Lance’s face... Lance’s face was paller beneath his faded tan.

He was seething, hand still outstretched where he had slapped Keith’s away.

“Don’t talk about her like that ever again...” He warned, spitting the words murderously.

Keith’s hand burned, not from the slap, but from who the slap had come from.  _What are you moping about? It’s fair, you did the same to him._

It had been so long though, caging everything in, and he wanted out so desperately, that he didn’t even think. Quite honestly, very deep down, none of them were thinking at all in the heat of the fight.

His eyes narrowed.

“Why is it so bad if I talk about Allura?” He probbed. Lance had this wake up call a long time coming.  Yeah, sure, tell yourself it’s that.  “You can’t even say her name? Hear it? Did you really love her  so much,  after everything she did to you, that after all this time, you don’t ever even think about moving on? What kind of love-“

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU KNOW ABOUT LOVE, KEITH?!” Lance’s voice was louder than the rain outside, than the thunder that cracked at the same time, “Huh? Tell me, what the fuck do you know about love?! When, in your life, have you ever experienced what love was?!” His arms were open wide as he gestured, mouth contorted in a clearly affronted way.

_Two can play that game if that’s the game you want to play._

“Forget Shiro. Forget your Mom. Forget your goddamn space dog! When have you ever felt a connection above friendship, above brotherhood, above team bonding? When have you ever felt something stronger than that? Stronger than that  anger  and  unsettlement  you seemed rightful to have but no one else apparently does!?”

His nose scrunched up, arms coming to cross against his chest protectively. There was a cold distance between them, “Or are  you  in love with me, huh?!” He spat without thinking, if still aware of how low a blow it was, “Or is this infatuation you feel for me so transcendental, so big, that maybe  you  think you could do better than  her , huh?! That by all means you should?! And that juST BECAUSE IT’S BEEN TWO MISERABLE YEARS I SHOULD MAGICALLY HEAL AND LET YOU?!”

Keith’s face was stoney, his eyes round, almost, Lance dare say, afraid. Like the floor had been pulled from under his feet, and now he didn’t know what to do, how to act, how to feel.

_Good._

_Sucks, doesn’t it?_

“You’ve left me when you needed to. Up and left me alone! Didn’t care to even think about how  I WOULD FEEL THEN-“  His voice cracked embarrassingly, eyes feeling watery despite the burns, the  hatred, the anger and frustation and bitterness  behind them, “Have you ever stopped to think about how I felt then?! And now, now do you expect me to believe all this time, these visits, this  preoccupation my ass, was real, and not for your own benefit too, deep down?!

Keith’s breathing was accelerated, nose scrunched up and brows furrowed painfully. The corners of his mouth were tugged down. Despite all these details, all Lance could see was Keith’s back, leaving him behind for the Blades of Marmora, Allura’s back, leaving him for the sake of all life of all universes and the greater good.

Kosmo whined somewhere in the background, probably sensing his owner’s greater distress. But he stayed away beside Kaltenecker, knowing not to interfere.

Sometimes the space wolf was smarter than _some_ people.

By the time Lance resumed speaking, Keith was slowly shaking his head no, almost as if hypnotized, nearly imperceptibly, blink and you’d miss it.

“You say I’ve changed but what about you? You think  you  changed a lot? You think you’re so big and grown up and just because you’ve covered all those holes in your life with dirt they’re gone and you’re a changed man!” He laughed tiredly, “Well bad news, buddy, it doesn’t work like that! You’ve still got anger-issues, you’re still reckless and all head on! And you’re still so goddamn impatient it hurts! All those issues you’ve packed and dumped in the back of the truck are still there, they didn’t magically fly out the damned window.”

“No...” Keith breathed, his face completely obscured by his bangs.

“But who am I, right?!” Lance insisted, voice high-pitched and moving to stand in the half-galran’s private space, trying to look him in the eyes, “I’m just some guy who got a heartbreak over a random girl which he can’t get over, right?! I’m probably also demented, weak-minded or something, right?  _Huh_?!”

Yet another thunder rolled outside. The barn shook with a strong gust of wind.

“Huh? So now you don’t speak? Am I wrong? Tell me!!! If you care so much about me then tell me! _Am I wrong?!_ ”

When Keith finally rose his head, his eyes were shiny. His hands were the ones clenched into painful fists this time. His shock had faded to anger, so intense it felt like the thunderstorm was roaring inside his chest and he wanted to destroy, to scream. The scenery was changing and it took him a while to realize it was his feet, carrying him outside into the heart of the deluge.

Every member, every cell, every fiber of his being was so full of rage, of ire, he didn’t even feel the cold of the rain against his burning skin. Somewhere behind him, probably through the same path where his soles had left fuming, charred footsteps on the ground, Lance’s voice sounded, still too loud, still demanding, daring him to answer the question.

A hand shot out from the static of the rain, grasping onto his forearm, forcing him to turn around. Keith didn’t like it. He snapped, yanking his arm from reach, a too animalistic growl erupting from low in his throat.

_Maybe you’re right. Maybe I still have anger issues. So what?!_

“Let me go.” Keith barked.

Lance’s hair was curled and drenched as were his clothes. A few seconds under that dark sky and they were both looking like they fell in a lake. His skin looked clammy with the water, lacking the usual glow it had when in the boy’s natural element. His eyes were bright, the lightest shade of blue in miles, yet not a good kind of bright. His markings looked dull, like a forgotten tattoo on someone’s back.

“So what?! So you can leave again? Because all you know how to do seems to be to leave!”

He looked so good it hurt where Keith didn’t think it could hurt more. He looked so good it filled Keith with a renewed burst of infuriation. He turned his back to walk away once more, not trusting separating his lips a mere second.

Lance hand pulled him back once again, and this time his voice was less spiteful, more desperate,  aching  almost and too low to go over Keith’s newly resurrected walls. It smacked against those walls and fell to the floor outside, unheard. 

“If you want to leave so bad, at least have the guts to answer my question, Kogane. Face me like a man and not a cowardly rat.”

And so Keith did, exactly as the little demon on his shoulder told him to. He could stop caring, he’d been great at it for most of his life.

“You’re wrong. I don’t care if you move on or not, I don’t care if you go bash your head against a rock or not. I couldn’t care less, I don’t give a single shit.”

Blue eyes went round, trying desperately not to show reaction but also failing incredibly. His agape mouth fell shut. It wasn’t necessarily what Keith had said but rather the way he’d said it, his eyes when he said it, the way they bored into his and made sure the message was clear and received, no second meanings.

He watched Keith turn and finally step away. He looked down at the muddy ground and his mouth tugged down, unsatisfied, “You always leave.” He said, loud enough to be heard over the rain and the distance between them that hadn’t been there before, 

“What if I left, instead?”

A pause.

“Just fucking disappeared into thin air?”

Keith stopped momentarily and a part of Lance felt the foolish hope that it meant he was pondering turning back.

Lightning flashed across the sky, turning it a white canvas.

Keith shrugged, brushing the question off, “Your problem, not mine.”

At that Lance simply stood there, glued to the spot, watching Keith disappear behind the house, Kosmo trailing behind not without looking back questioningly and with a low whine. Tears wanted to fall and they welled up in his eyes, but he only let them escape when the sound of the motorcycle faded into that of torrents of water massacring the Earth.

A whimper escaped his lips, followed by a full out sob and another and then another and he was on his knees in the mud with wails and laments leaving him but he couldn’t stop. His arms wrapped around himself on their own, either trying to make up for the loneliness that had took place, or to keep him warm, or both. His fingers were gelid and rusty as they desperately rubbed against the drenched fabric over his arms and, as honest as being his mother’s son, it was the only sigh of how much time had passed that his brain managed to process.

So, as any normal person would, Lance got to his feet, shaking convulsively, his throat raw from the wails that hadn’t yet stopped, and instead of going to take shelter inside his house, he dashed away from it- not wanting to see the room where  _he_ had passed the night, the change of clothes Lance had bought  just  for  _him_ . Lance didn’t deserve it, he didn’t deserve any good. He was a foul, pathetic,  God _he must be rotten inside or something._ He didn’t deserve his friends, he didn’t deserve his family, he hadn’t deserved her, he didn’t deserve  him and he didn’t deserve to warm up, to chase the chill from his skin away.

The forest came into view, with its creepy corners and dark twists and turns and Lance didn’t think. He usually never did anyway. He lost himself inside it, throughout its turns and twists, stumbling over roots and rocks and ignoring any wild sounds that may happen to echo around. Somehow he felt even more ridiculous, like he were a character in a movie being dramatic for no reason, which only added to his ruined mentality. It wasn’t like he could stop though, his body on lockdown, still shaking but refusing to stop running, no matter how tired and breathless it got, like it had to get away from that stupid reality.

He thought he’d fallen at some point, and there was a blinding light somewhere in the utter darkness but what happened after no one knew.

_Almost no one._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No wait please don’t hit me I can explain!-  
> I actually cannot...
> 
> I can’t say I love this chapter, it gives me mixed feelings. The hardest to write was having to imagine these two in a real argument, not their usual all bark no bite ones. Did my best to keep them in character considering all the problems that plague their minds specifically.  
> Also, yes, Lance knows. He’s not dumb. He’s actually very people smart and quite bright. He figured Keith out pretty quickly. He just doesn’t know what to do with that information. As for Keith, he’s still very people dumb, except when it concerns Lance, he knows Lance like the back of his hand. Also none of them is bad for wanting to hurt the other, we’ve all been hurt and hurt someone terribly when blinded by our anger and need to deflect.
> 
> With this I leave you all with the knowledge that this wasn’t the angstiest chapter! Adiós!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is fine, he’s completely okay and normal. He returns to his role as one of the leaders of the humanitarian Blade of Marmora (definitely doesn’t make up a mission as an excuse to run away from his problems, absolutely not, that’s the last thing he would ever do), and is perfectly fine as he works.  
> Well he might be, but the same can’t exactly be said about Lance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyooo!!! So sorry for the wait, I’m back!!!
> 
> Man I had the longest October... and November is seriously trying to be even worse! But one day at a time, am I right?
> 
> Anyway, I won’t stall no more. Just hope you all enjoy this chapter! It didn’t want to write itself (which I found extremely rude) and then it didn’t even cooperate in being written... seriously, can’t wait until one chapter from this when things finally start heating up!
> 
> Without further adieu! Enjoy! :D

** Chapter 3 **

** Summer I was fearlessness | Now I speak into an answer phone **

...

_ There’s something about the ocean that always seems to catch everyone’s eye.  _

_ Something that makes them stop, makes their whole world pause, for just the briefest of moments, and stare. _

_ Maybe it’s beauty, that catches even the eye of the most distracted, with all those infinite shades and shades of shades of blue and green and grey. The way bits of white come and go from existence here and there with the fall of every other wave, foam adding that bit of playfulness to an otherwise deeply mystical canvas. _

_ Maybe it’s the vastness, the way you know that, on the other side of that horizon, exists a whole other world where countless lives go about their journeys as they must- all separated by tons and tons and tons of the same minuscule molecule. _

_ It can mess with your head if you think too much about it. _

_ Maybe it’s the smell, the freshness, the freedom. It smells like the freeing of burdens, the laughter of our childhood. It smells like the ache in our throats after laughing at the best joke ever told, or after screaming and singing all day as we play. One day, when you inhale the scent of the ocean, notice how it always smells like your happiest memories. _

_ But it could as well be the way the light reflects over its surface like a mirror, the way it kindly blinds you from everything else around you, almost as if creating a different reality for itself. Selfish. It demands attention. _

_ Or it could also be all that it hides inside. The mere though of all those layers of water, the lack of sunlight, the weight of it, the pressure, the imagining to be under it all, right at the bottom, with all the deadly creatures that thrive in such a frightening place. _

_ How can something so beautiful hide so much darkness? _

_ Lance had grown in the ocean. He had stopped to look, he had dreamt of what could be just after that fine line between the water and the sky, he had breathed it in and let it live inside his lungs, let it roam his mouth and rest on his tongue, let it cling to his hair and his skin as he went. He had watched both sun and moon reflected on the biggest mirror to ever grace mankind. _

_ And he knew some of the secrets that lurked beneath the innocent facade, knew the bloodthirsty creatures lurking about, knew the screams of sailors and sunken ships, the weeping of mothers and daughters and sisters, knew how quickly a storm could brew, how restless the sea could easily become, knew how to tame it- but mostly, he knew when and when not to do so. _

_ He knew one minute it could be an authentic waveless pool and the next an unforgivable rollercoaster. Knew it took only a milisecond for it to find you distracted and to strike you square in the back. _

_ The ocean is treacherous in its own, unique way. _

_ You have to show it respect. _

_ He never, ever turned his back on the ocean. _

_ That was the rule. _

_ Ever since a little child he knew, the one thing you never, ever did was to turn your back on the ocean, for as pretty and friendly as it may seem that day. _

_ That was the thing about the ocean. It could never be completely figured out, it could never be kept under control, it was tireless and angry and happy and sad and anything you wanted it to be. And it took time and energy to know better. As warm as it could be cold. A pit of indifference as much as a well of emotion. Impulsive and unpredictable. Untamable, but not fully hopeless.  _

_ Raw. _

_ He would never tire of the ocean, it didn’t seem to be in his nature, like a higher calling always drawing him back- for as much as he might want to leave and never look behind he never would be able to. _

_ No matter how much it might hurt him, his nature was to always end up with his eyes trained over that endless caleydoscope, with his feet stuck in the shallow sand, unable to move forward or back off, and in his cupped hands the dripping of the ridiculously small amount of water he could hold, always slippery, always escaping from his grasp right between his fingers. A whole ocean and he couldn’t keep any of it, never would. _

_ He wasn’t sure he wanted to. _

...

White is not a colour, not exactly. It is actually an entire spectrum. 

Well, whatever it really is doesn’t really matter, what matters is that white was everything Lance could see for a few moments.

He blinked, shaking his head to try and clear the confusion and dizziness from his mind and the fogginess from his eyes (which, now that he thought about it, wasn’t very smart from his part, to shake his head like he did and hope to feel less dizzy). Or maybe it wasn’t such a bad move for the world finally came in to focus right out of the blue (or, well, out of the white).

“What the-“

He groaned, flexing his arms to push himself to his knees. A hand came to his face, rubbing at his skin and massaging his temple which seemed to be especially aching. He squeezed his eyes shut one moment more before opening them, craning his neck and finally, finally struggling to fall sitted on his bottom.

“What the heck happened?” He muttered out loud, scratching at his scalp in wonder. Around him trees rose, and birds chirped somewhere in the maze of their tops. The air was light and smelled of wet earth, the scent of the first rains of the season. Next to where he sat was a small, innocent pond, the surface looking fresh and recently fed from the rain. He knew exactly where he was.

He looked down at himself, at his impeccable blue trousers and T-shirt and jacket. His hands too were cleaner than ever. His body felt too light, which was strange, but just those observations left him reeling and a deep, heavy weight settled inside his stomach to balance it out. For someone who’d just awakened in the middle of the forest, during and after it rained, you’d expect him to be a bit muddied...

Thoughts were scarce in the middle of the installing panic. Something was wrong. Either he was going crazy or something was amiss. But still, looking down at his hands and forearms, despite the way not a single dirt or mud speck clung to them, nothing else off caught his eye. Everything looked and felt just the same.

_ Why even am I here? _

_ Oh. _

_ Ooohh... _

Swallowing was hard as Lance remembered the past day/night. He remembered the fight. He remembered the things he’d said.  _ Those awful things Keith never should have to listen to in his life had come out of his mouth.  _ He also remembered the things Keith had said before and in return, though.

_ I don’t give a single shit. _

_ (About you) _

Tears were quick to come to his eyes and Lance cursed, hiding his head with his hands and shaking his head. He didn’t have time to start bawling like a baby again. He didn’t have time to be pathetic like that. He had spent the night knocked out in the middle of the forest during torrential rain and, looking up, it was obvious the storm wasn’t, by all means, gone but simply taking a break. 

He didn’t want to spend another minute there, he just wanted to go home and take a bath to wash all that... imagined grime off and possibly fill in the hole he felt in his chest either with the bath water or the softness of his bed sheets. One of them would do.

Staggering to his feet Lance frowned at his poor balance but ultimately decided to attribute it to the whole traumatizing experience- he couldn’t after all remember anything about how he’d ended up in the middle of the forest. And if he also ignored the way his arms automatically came to clutch at himself in response to the cold he  _ should  _ be feeling but  _didn’t_...  well, he really must not be in his right mind.

Stumbling through the trees was boring but mostly lonely. He wondered why he had to have gone so inside the forest because now he had to walk all the way back home- with legs trembling and arms numb; with a mind that enjoyed bullying its owner and was loving the free time to plague him with memories and sounds and visions of his lowest lows, of the day he’d lost his best friend; and with a wound in his chest that begged him to just  _stop walking and crash to the floor and give up the world right there._

He just wanted to give up the whole the world.

He wanted...

_ Keith’s enraged face. _

_ Keith’s blank expression. _

_ Keith’s too shiny eyes. _

_ Keith’s resolved posture. _

_ Keith’s cruel, merciless, cutting stare. _

_ Keith’s back as he walked away. _

He shook his head.

He had no idea what he even wanted.

Later than it should, the forest finally gave way to the open fields by his house. As it grew in the distance though, he couldn’t decide whether he was glad or very, very disappointed. It had started to drip once more, slowly, but no doubt picking up pace for the next few hours. But Lance couldn’t feel it. Fields of beautiful, alien pink, Juniberries started just down the hill from his house, giving different touches of colour to the green grass everywhere else. They were much smaller than the ones at his parents’ farm since there they were a sort of product to be sold, but at home Lance had them for another porpose, tocherish and admire anytime he wanted.

_ To fill in that hole she left. _

_ Shut up. _

In the midst of his internal battle, he missed the way his house had the lights on. It startled him when he finally did, but much more did the car parked just nearly out of sight, by his own old red one.

“Hunk?” He wondered aloud, frowning. What was he doing here?

God if Hunk found out where he’d been the whole night he’d flip the sanity switch and go on a rampage. All of a sudden Lance was especially thankful for not having any mud on his clothes- sure some dry hay here and there was normal for him- but pure mud and grass in the middle of a storm? Hunk would sniff his lies like a drug-sniffing police dog.

However there was a part of him still stuck on the fact that his friend was here at all. Sure they had arranged to have lunch in a couple days from then on, but to show up so soon and without warning? Very weird. 

Perhaps something came up? Trouble with his cooking empire? God he hoped everything was alright with Shay.

Stopping by his back door, the one he actually used the most since it had one of those anti-bugs net thingy so no unwanted guests could crawl across the deck and make themselves at home without paying rent, Lance took a moment to straighten himself up again. It wasn’t like he was cacked with dirt from head to toe, not even slightly wet yet from the now fast paced rain outside the roof, but he felt safer doing it. A slight creak in his shirt here, a hand through his hair there, pushing his bangs more neatly to the left and right.

He might not be able to lie to Hunk’s questions but it wasn’t like he had to answer any if Hunk didn’t have a motif to ask them in the first place.

Then he reached for the door and completely fazed through it.

A scream tore itself from his throat as he stumbled, dizzy from how fast he’d appeared inside, from the memory of the door stabbing through his eyes. At first he simply stood there, in the interior of his home, head empty, eyes blinking in shock.

His blood pressure climbed up and heart thumped in his ears, the only sign that he was alive beside the hysterical rhythm at which his lungs devoured air.

It felt like his head was dumped inside a too hot bubble but his body fell in a frozen lake. The hand that had reached for the door knob was clutched to his chest as it trembled.

“H-h...h-h-Hunk....?”

His eyes widened, catching his friend’s form standing a few meters from his hunched, panting mess of a self. The ex yellow-paladin was looking disheveled as he held his holoscreen to his ear and muttered under his breath, crossing Lance’s cosy living room in quick, stressed strides.

But Lance was still stuck back at the door, wondering if perhaps his brain had fallen outside and he’d forgotten to pick it up and bring it inside with him, “H-hunk... what-?” He tried to ask, voice cracking terribly.

But Hunk kept on pacing and saying something to the screen thatLance’s tunneled and panicked hearing couldn’t quite catch. Maybe he hadn’t seen him nor heard him, or maybe Lance was beginning to feel so desperate that he refused to believe the obvious of the situation.

“Hunk... Hunk.”

Aching to feel something, aching to find some warmth and reassurance under his fingers, wanting his oldest friend to hold him and make him feel safe like he always did, Lance stumbled forward in a hurry, calling Hunk’s name. His face was contorted in a painful frown and he felt seconds from falling over to the side.

“Hunk. Hunk, please...” He begged. 

Throwing himself at the other boy, Lance let out a yelp when his hands fell through, then his arms, and then he was fully on the other side of his friend- standing in the middle, literally in the middle, of his couch. His eyes widened more than before, face becoming the pale epitome of fear and shock and hurt. A hiccup tore through his chest and his eyes stung as he shook his head,  _no_.

_ I’m dreaming, I’m dreaming. It’s another one of those nightmares. _

“Hunk!  Hunk please!”  He reached for the other again desperatly, wildly, bordering on insane. He could’t think, couldn’t comprehend what was happening,  that it was happening _it’s not it must be a dream, a nightmare, something._

Then Hunk’s voice registered at last, “Of course I looked at the Mclain’s Pidge! Who do you take me fo- No, I already told you that! Listen, can you get me Shiro? Tell him it’s urge- No, no...Keith isn’t picking up, but he’s been online. I’m freaking out Pidge, he’s been gone a whole two days and a half...possibly more...”

_ T...Two day- Two days and a half...? _

“Pidge, he left his phone, his keys, everything here.” Hunk insisted, turning his back to Lance to absent mindedly bound over to the other side of the room. He clutched at his hair in perfect anxious-Hunk-mannerism, “You don’t understand, the barn was unlocked. I had to search for Kaltenecker. He loves that cow, Pidge, you know he wouldn’t just leave it on the loose, especially to go somewhere willingly!”

Lance panted, trying to take everything in. His eyes widened more and he felt they’d tear any minute now.  He’d left Kaltenecher unlocked, in the middle of a storm. _ Shit shit shit.  _

“I don’t know, Pidge, I’m really freaking out. What if something bad happened what if he’sbeenkidnappedorworsenotthatthere’smuchworse-“ Hunk took in a deep breath, trying not to work himself into a panic, “Thank you thank you thank you Pidge! I know I worry too much sometimes but...” A pause. “I have a really bad feeling this time...” Hunk concluded.

Lance staggered forward to stand right before his oldest friend, a foolish hope still fueling his poor heart. He tiredly waved his hand in front of his friend’s eyes, feeling his energy depleted from the dying burst of panic and the quick crushing of any possibility that Hunk might actually see him this time, “You really can’t see nor hear me can you...?”

“See you soon, love you, Pidgeon.” The Samoan finished, completely unaware of the question he’d been asked, and he hung up with a deep breath. Hunk’s face contorted into the deepest of frowns as he sighed, falling sitted on Lance’s couch and repeatedly knocking his screen against his forehead, “Oh Lance you’ll be the death of me. What have you gotten into this time, buddy?”

_ Yet another pathetic mess, it looks like.  _

_ I’m probably dead or something. _

As Lance’s brain happily supplied those happy thoughts he thought it over.He didn’t think he was dead. He’d been dead before and it’d been nothing like this. It’d been quick and by the way could have been more painless than it was, but he still remembered the moments before getting hit. He couldn’t remember how he’d gotten that far inside the forest this time, and it had to be connected somehow. Dying was also very much like sleeping, one of the reasons sleep didn’t easily come to him- the moment it did his body would activate its stupid fight or flight response and he’d be jumping awake on the matress. It was unawareness and complete darkness and very, very cold and he wouldn’t have known he’d died until  _ her _ face had appeared above his, much like opening your eyes to the first sunlight of the day and only after realizing you’re awake.

He hugged himself. Well, if he wasn’t dead then he didn’t know what or where he was, nor how to do something about it. A sudden feeling of powerlessness crashed over him like a strong wave, and he went to sit by the corner of the room near the fireplace, crosslegged, arms around his body and head tucked against them so he could become as small as he felt.

Not even Hunk’s mantra of “Come on, pick up, pick up...” could break the block of ice that had formed around himself. A low whine escaped from his throat but this time Lance couldn’t even bother to tear himself down for probably looking like a kicked puppy. His eyes stung and his stomach churned, not liking the pit deepening and growing inside.

It wasn’t like he could feel cold but in that moment he was pretty sure he did.

_ Damn, I can’t even sit on my own couch anymore...  _

_ This is a whole other level of low.... _

...

“OH MY GOD, ZEZE, THEY’RE SO CUTE!!!”

Zethrid sighed, letting herself be dragged towards the small aliens. Ezor was squealing in delight and excitement, much like she always was, “Can we keep it, pleaaaaase please please please!?!!?” She begged, holding tightly to one of the crowding beings. She had snatched one up, hugging it tightly to her chest, and seemed determined to not let go of it so soon. 

The thing was, decidedly, very round and fluffy, with a big round snout, even bigger, rounder eyes and a pair of fluffy round wings. Summing up, everything about the thing was round and cute and very, very huggable, even Keith had to admit it. The one she held was mostly a soft shade of purple, but the ones sniffing at the couple’s feet ranged from one side of the rainbow to the other.

Keith could bet his life on it that if Lance were there he would have instantly offered to stitch them little sweaters, much like he’d done with the Arusians years ago. Keith couldn’t help but smile... First encounter with a whole alien civilization after being kidnapped into space and Lance was... well, being Lance.

_Was_.

Keith’s smile fell as he remembered everything he’d blessedly, momentarily forgotten. A weight seemed to dislodge inside his chest and move to press harder and more painfully against his heart. He closed his fists tightly.

Ezor was still giggling about. She had taken to pick the aliens up one by one and dump them all over her girlfriend everytime Zethrid mumbled a hardly said  no to her request of keeping one of the living bird-teddybears for themselves.

“Pleaaaaseee Zezeeee.”

Keith frowned, feeling the bad mood he’d been trying to refrain coming back full force. Sometimes he hated being in charge, at least before he could be  _ angry and emo and all those bad things he was without consequences- _

“ Enough, Ezor.” He declared, feeling another presence come up behind him, “You can’t take any of them because they belong here, in their home, with their owner.”

The alien girl pouted, shoulders slumping as she whined dramatically. Although a bit of that flare was actually truthful deep down, if the glare he received from Zethrid, still covered in fluffy, round animals but terrifying as ever, was anything to go by.

“Well, maybe they don’t have an owner!” The multi-coloured half-galra insisted, “They don’t seem to want to show up!”

Keith frowned, turning behind to silently question Axca, also getting a bit impatient with all the wait. They’d been there all morning and nothing.

Axca was checking her holo-screen but when she glanced up at Keith she rolled her eyes, “I told you I don’t know any more than you do.” She kept on tapping away on the device, coming to rest against their ship, completely desinterested in the world around her, Ezor back in her antics, Zethrid shaking the beings off her and, of course, Keith’s growing and growing frown.

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you mean?” She asked him, unbothered.

Keith scowled obviously, “I mean what are you doing glued to your holo-screen? We’re in a mission in case you haven’t noticed.” He deadpanned.

“I’m using my holo-screen to do things my holo-screen does.” She declared simply.

“No. You’re tapping away on it.” Keith pointed out, his finger directed at her accusingly, his face had suspicion written on it, “I can see your finger doing the tipping away on it thing. You never just tap away on it.”

“It’s called messaging.” This time Axca looked up at him, her always cool gaze had a mocking tone in the background, “You’d know what it was if you actually picked up your screen every time it rang.” 

Keith blinked, his hand going automatically to rest above his inner pocket, where his own holo-screen was kept. It had been ringing non-stop for the past couple days but he had (absolutely not) made it so he always missed the call. After he’d called his team to the garrison and quickly made up a last-minute relief mission, they’d filled the ship with all types of goods and hightailed out of the planet. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do anyway, and if his teammates did...well, they’d just have to suck it up and take one for the team. 

However, that had been about four days from now. Halfway through the journey, two days in, give of take (they had clocks with Earth time so no unfortunate aging accidents happened), his holo-screen had started ringing.

At first Keith had absolutely not jumped out of his sit in fright.

He had absolutely not though it to be a certain someone. A certain someone he should have called already had it not been for his stupid, asshole of a pride.

A certain someone that he had hurt in his egotism, and a certain someone who had too, broken his heart in a million, unfixable pieces, but that certain someone he could never, ever truly hate despite what he might do wrong. 

A certain someone he would always, always put first.

_ I don’t give a single shit. _

_ Or he’d like to think he would... _

Keith had always thought the universe to be unfair, but during his still rather short life he had come to know it to be so.It was at times like this though, that he wondered if it was him who actually made it to be that way.

But back to the point. He had avoided looking the first couple of times, still too hot-headed the first, and then unsure the second. He knew they had to talk, but the mere thought of it felt like lead on his tongue and filled his stomach with butterflies. You would have thought that he, a 24 year old veteran in an intergalactic war, would have been over that kind of silliness. He guessed Lance had a way of bringing him out of his mind, one way or another.

Yesterday morning, he’d woken up filling courageous. Except, it was not Lance, by far, the identity of the caller. It was Hunk. 

At that, a million thoughts and emotions ran through his head, leaving him completely dazed and lost. Why was Hunk calling him? Did he know? Had Lance told him? Had he told him everything? Had he gone to him to complain? He must have done that, and now Hunk was calling him to earn an explanation as to why Keith had been so fucking nasty with his friend. Not that Keith judged him. Hell,  _ he’d want answers too if anyone told his friend to go bash his head on a rock and vanish from the world and that he didn’t give a single shit abo- _

Keith shook his head, breaking out of his sticky thoughts. He removed his hand from near the device so quickly it looked like he’d been burned, and crossed his arms, hoping to look a bit more leader-y and steady than he had been feeling ever since stepping aboard his ship. “No it hasn’t.”

But Axca was back on her own holo-screen, “I wouldn’t believe you even if you hadn’t just frozen and stood there for two whole minutes looking into the great beyond.”

Keith blinked. Had he? Really?

“You’ve also been doing it a lot these past couple days. So no, not just now. And before you tell me to put it down and look for the Sarang tribe” She stuck her arm out, pointing to her left and so, Keith’s right, “There you have it.”

The half-human grumbled under his teeth, not knowing what to retort back to all of that. So he just resigned himself with the fact that no one on his team actually took him seriously, and walked off in the direction of the approaching aliens, feeling more dejected and down-in-the-dumps than before. 

The achingly bitter truth was that he felt no one really understood him deeply. Sure, Axca might have been able to guess all she did, but she would never know when to stop nor what to say. She was naturally cold like that. He got it though. But she could never get where  _ he _ was truly coming from... The problem was there was a single, specific set of words he needed to hear from a single, specific voice- but it was exactly _that_ voice the source of all his problems.

There was a fire fueling itself inside his chest now. What was he thinking? No one knew him, no one ever saw much beyond him except maybe Shiro, but even Shiro now had his own someone to keep him busy. He’d just have to deal with things the way he always did before, before when he had absolutely no one, and managed to push forward despite the hard trials.

_ He only had himself. _

And if his holo-screen chose that exact moment to start ringing again, well, he squeezed his fists tightly and heard nothing at all.

...

Keith sighed, wiping his brow and cracking his back. His neck was killing him, and his arms and legs had long ago given their maximum.

Standing back to look at his team it was obvious the same went for everyone, even Zethrid and her endless strength wasn’t exception- carrying boxes after boxes of goods (and heavy ones) for hours along a slippery, too long path would do that to you.  _ Why couldn’t the tribe live just a little closer to the nearest landing sight...?  _

He approached the Sarangian leader and announced they would be returning to their ship after the last products of the day were finninshed. The alien was short and curt, agreeing that it was time everyone had much deserved rest. Keith was glad for that: the Sarangs were an odd specimen- their body was shimmery, an inbetween of a mirror and liquid mercury- they were literal walking blobs of liquid who could take different forms. Right now, they had assumed a mostly humanoid shape which resembled that comic book character on top of a surf board Keith had once seen on the cover of a magazine in a store he had gone to with his dad, very long ago. He wasn’t sure about his name. He’d never had much a life to delve into those matters. Their eyes, 3 in total and somehow familiar to him in shape, were blue- the brightest shade of sky blue with icy blue in their central part he had ever seen. Despite that, it rang a bell, like he knew them personally in their whole. He dismissed those thoughts. What he actually knew, from having read a bit on the planet they’d be visiting, was that everyone saw them in different colours for some specific reason he had not memorized.

So yes, their gazes were a bit too intense for his liking, sue him. Although everyone else seemed to be doing just fine... so he chose to ignore that feeling- he guessed some things got to you and there really wasn’t a reason to justify it.

He was also sick of feeling his holo-screen vibrate in his pocket. It had only been a few hours since their mission had officially began, but his screen had to have gone off at least a dozen times. He was starting to get a bit wary- what if something had happened and Hunk needed his help for some reason? What if something was wrong with Pidge? Or Shiro? No.... Curtis would call him then. 

Still, he was starting to become tempted to just forget all that pathetic stabbing inside that kept his temper an unstable mess, swallow his pride and risk having to face the Lance subject so soon and unprepared in favor of just knowing if everything was alright with his friends. He hated not knowing of them, they were not just his friends, they were all his family first and foremost. Always would be.

That or just throw his holo-screen into the bottom of the closest lake before he could really think about it. One of the two would have to be.

He sighed, falling seated at the pilot chair, body sagging in relief but his temples starting to pound because of all the thinking his brain insisted on doing. For as tired as he felt there was this deep need of just screaming or punching something. He wanted to  break  something, had been ever since that night, but he also wanted to just sit in a corner and forget the world. The last thing he needed was a mission and yet a mission had been what he’d cooked up from day to night just so he could run away from everything that had gone wrong.

It was in his blood, to avoid his problems and fight a path around them through a set of smaller ones he (himself) had conjured just so he could overcome  something  instead .

As if to mock him, the devilish device went off again. Keith groaned, a deep, exasperated, gutural sound, as he snatched it from his pocket to throw it carelessly over to the top of the flying console. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes and breathing deeply through his nose- he swore he could feel the eye bags under his eyes. His body melted into the chair once more, but it never really seemed to relax fully.

A couple moments passed by, (in which his screen stayed completely, miraculously silent). Keith mentally groaned. His eyebrows furrowed and his eyes squeezed themselves shut tighter once, then twice, “What?” He asked, voice dripping with exasperation.

“We wanted to know why you’ve been ignoring your boyfriend!” The cheery voice replied.

Keith choked.

“Wha-a-t-?” He asked, hacking the bit of saliva that had gone down the wrong pipe, “...The fuck?”

Ezor was standing right before him (which wasn’t at all creepy considering the fact she had been there watching him rest the whole time), looking far too excited for some reason. She almost looked quite innocent (if Keith didn’t know what she was capable of).  _ Kind of like Lance when he thought about it.... _

_ No. Bad. _

_ Stop it. _

“Wait, you said we?” He asked.

Ezor shrugged, bounding over to sit on top of the flying console, her tail-like-hair-head-thingy swinging about. Keith almost lectured her off about it. “Oh you know, Axca was here too, watching you have your silent breakdown.” She said it like it was the most obvious, normal thing in the universe, “But she ditched before you realised we were there. Left to talk to that brown, blue eyed girl. She kinda looks like your brown, blue eyed boy.”

It seems like and exaggeration, but Keith choked again. He shot forward, eyes wide open and blinking, “She’s been talking to Veronica this whole time!?”

“I feel like I’ve heard that name before but honestly, I don’t really care much about her love life enough to memorize it.” She shrugged again, “So I’ll just say yes.”

Keith shook his head, “No you don’t understand. She’s Lance’s sister.” He explained, deep down thinking out loud to himself more than talking to her.

Ezor tilted her head, one would-be-eyebrow lowering in thought. Then, she seemed to have an epiphany, and whooped (actually whooped), leaning backwards to clap her hands contentedly, “Oooooohhhh so the brown blue eyed girl is related to the brown blue eyed boy! Well they do look a lot alike. Both kinda cute.” She decided, swinging her legs back and forth in the air. “Are they womb-lings?”

“No. Yes. I mean.... They came out of the same womb, just not at the... same time... that’s actually Rachel...” He shook his head, feeling his cheeks light up.  _The last thing he needed was to think about and discuss where Lance and the other Mclains had come out of._ _Leave it to Ezor to ask the awkward questions._ “ Remember me, why even am I discussing this with you? And why hasn’t she told me anything about it?”

This time, the alien girl deadpanned, “You’re really dense sometimes, aren’t you?” She lightly smacked him across the head and Keith more dramatically than he’d ever admit clutched at his skull as he complained, “You’ve been pestering her for being on her holo-screen this whole time!”

“That’s because we’re on a mission!”

“Well, yeah! A mission you called on early!” She pouted, “Zeze and I weren’t done with that Africa thingy you guys have! She wanted to see the laughing kitty cats!”

“The hienas.”

“The nhenhas.” She nodded, “And Axca was in the middle of a nice...” She looked around for the word, “I would say.... date! She was in the middle of a nice date with that cute girl! You literally ruined our vacations!!!”

Keith frowned, “But Lance told me she was with them visiting family in Cuba...”  _ Had he lied? How had he lied and Keith hadn’t noticed?! _

Cold seeped through his bones, and a large piece of ice dislodged itself inside his stomach.  Maybe he.... He really didn’t know Lance as well as he thought... He clenched his teeth shut, grinding them in frustration, in anger.  How ridiculous, it is to think you know someone better than anyone else, better than even themselves, and then realize you didn’t even know the tip of the iceberg. How cutting, _how pathetic that liberty is. Lance was right. He was nothing more than a fool with anger-management issues, and he would never be more than that. Enclosed in the finitude of his character. How fucking stupid. How-_

“Damn. She’s right. You’ve got it bad, buddy.” Ezor announced, shaking her head pityingly at him. Keith looked up at her, feeling the remnants of the world of his thoughts breaking away. “He’s really got you wrapped around his baby finger, doesn’t he?”

_ Little finger.  _

_ Keith’s stupid brain happily supplied. _

_ No. _

_ Keith’s stupid brain should have stated. _

“Is it that obvious...?” Keith’s idiotic mouth admitted with a sigh. His shoulders hunched and head felt heavy. All this time, he had thought to be in so much control of his emotions, and all this time he’d been extremely transparent. All his life, he’d been closed off, having learnt how to not let people in, and yet now, now he came across Lance Mclain, and it’s like he’s a small child once again. Lance was right. He’d never loved before. _So how the_ _ hell was he supposed to know how to now? _

“Oh extremely.” Ezor happily reassured. Then, she noticed the dejected look on her leader’s face, “Ooohh... well, but I’m sure he hasn’t noticed. Humans are kinda dumb.”

_ Or are you in love with me, huh?! _

“Thank you for insulting my species to cheer me up...” He mumbled, turning to rest his head on his crossed arms over the console, gaze falling on the too silent holo-screen, “But I’m pretty sure he has.” It came out as a whisper. He hated showing the barest weakness to others, but right then he felt so, so tired... nothing else really mattered. 

The world was ruthless, the universe unfair, the waves always died on the shore and Lance Mclain didn’t love him back.

God, why did he fly them to a planet full of peaceful aliens and not one filled with the most horrible, most punchable monsters in existence?

“Hey...” Ezor’s voice was surprisingly sweet this time, but not sweet enough to make Keith turn and face her. Honestly, she couldn’t even be mad at that. She’d tried to kill him and his family one too many times in the past. “Do you know what makes sarang eyes look different to everyone?”

Keith shook his head, closing his eyes to try and get some rest. He didn’t know where Ezor was getting at but honestly he’d lost the inexistent hype for this conversation long ago (aka he’d never really had it in the first place). “Didn’t get to that chapter.”

“Well, what do you see in them?”

Keith sighed. A pair of the most sparkling blue eyes popped up in his mind, “Blue eyes.”

“I see orange scleras and black pupils.” He felt her hair-tail brush surprisingly gently over his shoulder, “Do you think Zethrid loves me?”

He scowled, not really getting where all of this was going. “Of course she does, it’s painfully obvious.” He answered, raising his head from his arms and turning around to face her.

But she was already gone.

The sparkling, ocean clear eyes returned, this time over a sunkissed canvas and the brightest smile that could ever grace his mind. 

He missed that smile.

Keith was left thinking.

...

It happened the next day.

They were about halfway through their last day on the planet (as always these kind of humanitarian missions consisting solely on delivering goods never took more than two days and they could always hit up several neighboring planets in a row in just a mere week), when his holo-screen had rang again. And this time, it made Keith stop halfway through the path from his ship to the alien tribe and nearly drop the box he’d been carrying from the jump scare.

The thing was, ever since his less than spectacular conversation of Ezor the past night, his screen had been silent. Too silent. It was frustrating really, after yet another night left staring at the ceiling above his bed, spent reliving, brooding over, thinking too much- with little to no sleep coming to him- Keith had come to terms with the fact that he couldn’t run forever.

It was getting tiring.

_ God, he was so fucking tired. _

And he’d cooled down significantly, which meant the logical side of his brain was mostly active again after days of general mental fogginess.

_ And he could see just how badly he’d fucked up. _

_ Shut up. No. _

No. He could think clearly and had decided that he would show Lance how freaking wrong he’d been, he’d decided he’d be the person he thought he was. He was a 24 year old adult, a leader, he was his own person- had found that person years ago- and he was in control of himself and his actions, his choices,  his thoughts.  He’d show Lance who was right, that he was done running, that he could think things through and was well beyond what he’d been as a teenager and young adult- and it all started with picking the damned screen when it rang next.

But of course, the universe was out to get him, and damn it if it didn’t. Because throughout the night, throughout the whole daybreak, the devilish device had turned deadly silent.

So Keith had stared at it moments before exiting the ship and starting the day, and he’d stared at it, and stared until the last second. Why did things always go the opposite way of how he wanted them to go? Why was it when he thought to go right, the path would be blocked and he’d have to turn left? Why was it that every time he chose orange without meaning to, but the one time he wanted to do it by will was the one time he was forced to choose any other stupid colour?! He swore it was like a curse and just thinking about it left him reeling in frustration, a fizzle of fire catching on to a random spark.

_ If told, no one would believe it.  _

With an irked laugh that promised something more he’d swallowed a swear word and chucked it at the top of his mattress carelessly...then regretted it and quickly snatched it back to stuff it down the deepest pocket of his uniform he could find, all the while grumbling under his breath absentmindedly.

He’d actually forgotten about it at last... until now.

The moment it rang a shiver of anxiousness curled in his stomach and he’d pretty much half-dropped the box he’d been carrying in favor of hastily forcing his pocket open and pulling the thing from inside.

It was no one other than Shiro.

_ Shiro. _

_ Not Hunk. _

_ He should have known. _

Swallowing his growing guilt at having ignored Hunk all that time and now possibly having missed his friend’s needs, Keith didn’t stall no more. Maybe it was because this was Shiro, his brother to whom he had confided the most he could ever confide in someone, safe territory, but Keith actually didn’t think twice about sliding his thumb over the ‘accept call’ button, which was sort of comical compared to the whole drama he’d cooked up in his head concerning Hunk’s calls.

“Hey.” 

“ _Keith, is that you?_ ”

Keith rose an eyebrow, finding Shiro’s voice weirdly restless, “Huh, yeah, who else would it be?” 

“ _Oh thank god, it’s you..._ ” Shiro said, huffing in a breath. 

Brow lowering, Keith went on, “Uh... yeah, it’s me.-“ He quickly removed his screen from his ear, checking it over dumbly once, then twice to be sure, “...I ha- last time I checked, I... my phone was, well, mine. Shiro, are you okay?”

“ _Am I okay_?”  Shit, Keith hated that tone of voice. It was the tone of voice when Shiro’s Dad/Big Brother mode activated and he got a lecture, “ _Am I okay?! Are you seriously asking me if I’m okay, Keith?!_ ”

“ Yes...?” Keith pouted (he actually did it), spinning around in his spot, crate of goods forgotten on the dirt floor as he rested a hand against his hip. He suddenly felt grateful no one seemed to around for a moment, so that they could not hear this idiotic exchange between them. “Shiro can we drop the dumb, useless questions? Why are you so upset?”

He could hear Shiro fuming on the other side of the phone, but if his voice came out angry at first then it progressively lost its fire, sounding more distressed yet somehow relieved by the end of his statement, “ _I’m sorry but I think I have every right to ask you said dumb questions-_ “  Keith cringed at the way Shiro’d said it, making it sound bad and offensive. Okay maybe Keith should have thought it over and worded it better. “- _ when you don’t pick up your calls and disappear off the face of the Earth without warning anybody! _ ”

“What?” Keith exclaimed, “But I called on a new mission-“

_ Didn’t he? _

“ _ No, you didn’t. _ ”

_ Ah, shit. _

“ _ Not Kolivan, nor your mother knew anything about this new mission. I think you missed an appointment there. _ ”

Keith exhaled tiredly, bringing a hand to carve through his hair, moving the annoying fringe out of his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Shiro, I- It must have gone right over my head, I... just called the girls, loaded the ship and took off.” He sighed.  _Shit_.  And added one more of those into his headspace for good measure.

Shiro was silent for a brief moment during which he thought he heard a muffled, shaky breath being let out, the sound of what seemed like a cushion or some sort of plastic-like-fabric rustling in the background and what was distinctly Curtis’ voice. What he said though, Keith couldn’t quite catch. 

“Shiro?”

Shiro seemed to be having a hard time speaking, which was completely out of character for him, the guy who always seemed to know what to say when you needed it to be said. Something was off here. Very off. “ _Sorry, just.... been a hard couple day_ s. ”

Keith frowned, “Are you okay? What even is going on? Because some alarms are definitely going off here and I don’t know why.”

Why was Shiro so worried? Of course, Keith hadn’t answered his phone in a couple days but he’d gone longer without establishing contact than that. Besides everyone knew where exactly he’d been on Earth. Maybe Lance was worried about Keith’s whereabouts?

A foolish, blossom of hope planted itself inside him.

But it was soon knocked down. If Lance really wanted to know where Keith was, then he could always ask his sister if Axca was on a mission and instantly have his answer.

_ Couldn’t he? _

Head racing kilometers per hour he tried to picture the reason of Shiro’s distress but to no avail.  He wasn’t... wasn’t sick again or something like that was he?

Shiro’s voice was tempting- definitely worried, trying to stay calm but with a distinct edge to it.

“ _Keith, when were you last in touch with Lance?_ ”

Keith’s throat suddenly turned dry at the sound of that name, but not for the reason he’d been dreading all along until now. The way Shiro had asked that, it drove a bad feeling into his gut. 

His gut was usually right.

“About three days ago... Why?”

A pause.

“Why?!”

When Shiro hesitated in his response, Keith knew, he just knew.

“Shiro, where the fuck are you getting at? What about Lance? Is he okay?!”

Yet hearing it wasn’t any easier.

“ _ Keith... Lance is gone. _ ”

A bucket of cold water fell over his head. Red lights went on, like a frenzied siren. The rug of the world was pulled from underneath his feet.

“ _ He’s been missing for days. We have no idea where he is. _ ”

_ What if I left, instead? _

_ Just fucking disappeared into thin air? _

It was like getting thrown against a wall and having all of his breath stolen. The colourful world around him melted away into black and white, ponctuated by the heavy rain of that night and suddenly, all Keith could see was Lance’s pale face, his drenched hair and clothes, both their miserableness transpiring in the air. But then, he was gone, the spot he’d stood in being filled by the downpour, wetting the dirt where his feet had stood, and Keith was arguing with the air.

“ _ Keith _ _?_ ”

_ Not my problem. _

“ _Keith are you there?_ ”

_ He wouldn’t, would he? No, he would never... _

Somehow, he found his voice, “Yeah... I am...” Gaze stuck downwards, Keith didn’t know what to think. He felt like that one time he’d bled too much and went into shock. Brain garbled up, arms of lead and legs of air. “How long?”

Shiro sighed, “ Three days. Minimum. Though it depends, I guess. You were probably the last person he spoke to. ”

Keith closed his eyes, squeezing them shut, his forehead doing that creasing thing Lance always swatted at him for, saying it would age him early. “Five. I left five earth days ago.”

_ A whole damned week. _

“ Are you sure he’s really... ?” You know he wouldn’t ever joke around with something like that _why would you even ask that?!_

“ _We’ve searched everywhere he could be in around here. Either he’s much further or simply vanished into thin air. That or he doesn’t want to be found. I’m hopping the last._ ”

Keith’s gut tugged again, unhappy. He looked around, noticing the approaching head from far away, probably one of his girls returning for more supplies on the ship. It just served to remind him he had a mission going on. He was the leader. It might not be life or death like it had been with Voltron and the previous Blade of Marmora, but he couldn’t just waltz in and then leave. Yet his entire being seemed to be raging against itself, needing to  _ just go towards him, even if in the end there was no reason at all for them to be so worried. Even if it turned out to be a false alarm? A misunderstanding. _

Even if Lance didn’t want to look at his face when he eventually showed up.

_ Five days. A week. _

_ What should he do? _

“ I-“

“ _Keith I’m not asking you to cut the mission short, just thought you should know... thought you wanted to know._ ”  It was amazing how, without Keith telling him anything, Shiro seemed to already be catching on that something must be off between the two boys. Was he really that obvious?

“Have you talked to his family?” He asked, eager to change the subject.

“ _Veronica knows. That’s how we knew you were on a mission_. ” He paused, “ _ Still doesn’t excuse you not picking up your phone. But anyway, she doesn’t want to tell anyone else for now, says the last thing the MClains need is another bad news. She thinks he’ll show up sooner than later but I think she’s just telling herself that to not break down in worry. _ ”

Keith was silent for a moment, absentmindedly worrying his lip between his teeth as the gears in his head turned relentlesly, torn between staying and being the leader he was supposed to be and taking off that very second. Like a fight inside him, his brain pulling towards one side, _his heart towards the other_. It left him numb. He knew, if they hadn’t had that fight, he’d have taken off years ago, so why was he hesitating now?

He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to think things over and not act recklessly.

“What,” He swallowed, mouth dry. Shiro’s voice sounded under water on the other side of the line to him, “What do you think?”

“ _I._.. ” Shiro admitted, “ _ Kaltenecker was on the loose. Hunk had to find her and bring her home. He also left his keys, phone and wallet here. I... I don’t really like the sound of that. _ ”

_ Kaltnecker was on the loose. _

_ Five days. _

Lance loved that cow. His phone, his keys, his wallet,they might sound the most key aspect but Keith could see Lance leaving without those things. 

He couldn’t see Lance- Lance who went outside, through heat and cold, to check if everything was alright with his animals-leaving without locking Kaltenecker in her barn. 

“ _Look, hmm... it’s late here. I’ve to go. I’ll keep you updated ok? Talk to you tomorrow?_ ”

“ Yeah... Tomorrow. ”  Keith croaked, still staring dumbly at a piece of dirt by his shoe.

“ _Okay... It’s okay. He’ll show up, okay?_ ” Shiro assured, though wheter to himself, to Keith, or both was unclear. ” _Bye. Stay safe. Love you._ ”

But Keith had already uncoordinatedly lowered his screen before the words to reply left his mouth.  _Love you too_. He mouthed at the air. 

For a moment, only the buzz of alien insects could be heard.

It was as sudden as a landslide. His gaze went over the crate he’d dropped on the floor, then over his holoscreen and before he knew it, he was squeezing his hands so hard it left half-crescent moons on his empty palm. 

His breath was fire when it left his lungs in a decided huff. He caught site of a dark purplish head approaching and he didn’t hesitate on calling her name, “You’re in charge.” He told her.

Without stopping to see if Axca had really heard him or not, Keith took off towards the ship. Kosmo whined in question but followed him anyway, forever loyal. Together they crammed into the smaller ship attached to the main one, nearly the size of an escape pod. But Keith couldn’t care less if Kosmos’s butt was too close to his face, he had one goal, he was fixated.

_ Two day trip? I’ll make it one. _

_ Just watch me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was it! Was it good?! No?! Probably just meh? xD
> 
> You might want to check the meaning behind the name of the tribe ;) just saying
> 
> Also a quick note: I picture Keith’s girls softer than they were in the series here because some years have gone by and they all softened up a bit of course! What with not having to fight in a war every single day! Same with the other characters! They’re all older and more settled... well, almost all of them ;)
> 
> Well, I hope to have the next chapter done hopefully before my birthday in the beginning of December! (I do have 6 evaluations until then so can’t really promise to though)
> 
> Wish me luck! I’ll probably need it! See you soon!!! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love. How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.”
> 
> ― Albert Einstein

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m back guys!
> 
> I’m terribly sorry for taking so long but... a lot as happened. With exams and covid suddenly delayed some of them for my uni so I we finished hed later than supposed to :( (and still some exams were delayed to like... june which sucks).
> 
> Anyways, it’s crazy but then again I’m sure it’s been like that for everyone since last year.
> 
> With that in mind I apologize again. I didn’t mean to take so long finishing this but I barely had time to eat at all (I’ve been eating at my desk for months now). If I ever take this long to post again know I haven’t given up on the story ok? I would always post a warning if that was the case. But I have a couple of free days now before next semester and I’ll try to hurry up with the next chapter. Fingers crossed!
> 
> I also couldn’t find a nice summary for this chapter since it is quite short in... terms of action, I guess. However I came across this quote about relativity by Albert Einstein the other day (many of you might know it, it is quite famous I would say) and coincidentally it fit very well with the chapter!
> 
> So, read on! I hope you enjoy it! :D

** (Chapter 4) **

** Like every fallen leaf on the breeze | winter wouldn’t leave it alone | alone **

_ In space there is no gravity. _

_ It makes sense. Something like a force such as that cannot exist in a void, given that the void, too, technically doesn’t exist. _

_ Funnily enough, everything that actually is there, in that emptiness up there- planets, stars, satellites, nebulas, black holes- everything that really exists in the universe, is gravity dependent. _

_ You cannot have a planet without the crushing force of its hovering weight being held at length by another. You cannot have a star and not a gigantic blob of fiery droplets without the gluing force that holds them all together.  _

_ You cannot have dark tears in the fabric of reality and time without the hyperbole of such pulling, hungry, self-centered dynamism. _

_ Everything is gravity. _

_ The Moon dancing around the Earth. The sea crashing against the rocks on the shore. A child falling off their bicycle as they learn how to ride it. A leaf descending from the tree branch that let it go come winter. Weak knees hitting the floor in despair. A pair of eyes settling upon another as they marvel at newly-found or long known beauty. Someone pushing through a crowd to go hug their loved one. The press of two bodies, the touch of lips, the leaning of foreheads. _

_ Everyone is gravity. _

_ We all gravitate towards something or someone in our lives, whether we want to or not, whether we notice or not. It’s that gravitational field that gives us a purpose for the infimum time we have to roam this reality. _

_ Tell me, what pulls at you? _

...

“You know, when I said see you tomorrow I didn’t mean see you, literally, here, in person, today, now, which is tomorrow... Right?”

Keith pushed past his brother, going to enter the house. He felt Shiro’s eyes following him from behind, burning at his back. 

“Keith...”

“Yeah, yeah...”He shrugged, shredding his jacket and dropping his duffel bag unceremoniously on the ground. Shiro crossed his arms, silently staring. “I may have broken a couple space speed limits, so what?”

Keith didn’t bother looking at the man. The last thing he needed was Shiro’s pity and much less his therapy. He had stuff to do. They all had. “You coming or what, space cop?”

Together they ventured further inside the Mclain household, heading towards its center where several heads shot up as they entered the living/dining room. The place had a couple couches before a mighty fireplace and a TV off by the side. Behind the couches was a long dining table, looking exactly like the one of a big family such as the McLains, with well cared for but still worn looking wood that had surely seen many shenanigans and hearty, warm meals being served. A wide window occupied nearly the whole wall next to it, allowing the greenery outside to fulfill the cosiness of the space. Throughout the room several pictures were on display, always full of a wide variety of people but with the same seven as a constant. It showed how much Mr. and Mrs. Mclain loved their children and grandchildren. The older brothers here, the grandkids on the other side, Veronica (the oldest sister) there, the twins next to her.

Keith tried not to look.

His friends were sitting all split up throughout the room. By friends he meant Pidge, who was sitting alongside Hunk at the dinning table, her faithful computer under her tipping fingers. Coran seemed to be talking to a brown head (Veronica, Keith realised), as Curtis listened intently from the other couch, looking like he sometimes, too, intervened in the conversation. Shiro’s spot was vacant next to him, but a second cooling mug of tea rested besides Curtis’ on the coffee table, giving it away.

“Keith!!!” Came a screech and he barely had time to prepare his stance as the sound of a chair scrapping against the floor disrupted the calmness of the room, and a small body crashed with his own.

There was a small moment in which the room felt like it shook, tilting and turning on its axis, and the electrostatic in the air appeared to buzz incredibly stronger than normal, making his skin crawl and the hairs of his arms stand on their own. However, just has it had come it had gone, and no one else seemed to have noticed it. It vanished like a ghost fading from reality, continuously until it ended. In fact, it was so fast that it felt like those fleeting visions people sometimes have projected against the black of their eyelids when they blink.

He didn’t even stop to think about it, just moved on.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips. “Hey Pidgeon.”

“Missed you.” She mumbled, her words half muffled against his shirt. Then, she leaned her head back to glare at him, “Next time you don’t pick up your screen like that I’ll make it so it grows legs and follows you around to zap you every time a call is missed.”

He swallowed, trying not to show much of his real guilt. He didn’t think she actually knew the reason for him missing so many calls, probably thought it was him being sort of sloppy again. Also, he knew she was person to do as threatened which was extremely convincing. He didn’t plan to miss anymore calls than he had to, after that. “Duly noted.”

“Keith!!!” Another body collided against his and this time Keith was not prepared for the full force of it. Luckily he really didn’t have to, for Hunk simply swept him off his feet, lifting him against his own body in the most crushing, bearest of bear hugs. “Oh buddy, I missed you so much! How long has it been?”

“A month.” Keith squeaked, fingers twitching as he prayed for his eyes to stay in their sockets and not jump off due to the pressure. “Missed... too... Hunk- air... please...”

“Oh! Right!” Hunk chuckled, lowering his friend to the ground and sympathetically smoothing down his clothes and hair, “Sorry, I just really missed you, buddy. I always miss everyone...” At that he paused, gaze growing heavy and forlorn.

Keith bit his tongue, trying to keep his chin up. He frowned, unsure, a hand coming to rub at the back of his neck, “Look, about those calls, I-“

Hunk immediately perked up a bit at that, “Oh, don’t worry. I know how it is with your missions. Shiro managed to contact you, that’s all that matters.” He rung his fingers through each other, “I shouldn’t have insisted so much, I was just... really worried.”

Keith opened his mouth to answer but Pidge was faster, “Speaking of the elephant in the room”, her glasses glowed with the angle in which the light fell on them, “We have to talk.”

Just like that the air became heavy and every set of eyes in the room turned to them. Keith’s brow lowered decidedly. He knew he had some explaining to give, but he also wanted some answers as well, and after a long flight where he had more than enough time to digest the situation and think it over a lot, it was finally time to get them.

...

Lance no longer had to sleep, which was both a blessing and a curse.

It was a blessing because it meant he no longer had to deal with any nightmares, and since he didn’t seem to feel tiredness or sleep deprivation, nor did he have to feel that familiar, ever constant drag in his body, as if gravity enjoyed being a bitch to him in particular. 

But it was also a curse because he had absolutely  nothing  to do, and it was admittedly  _ boring  _ in what he’d nicknamed as ‘The Corner Dimension’. Yes, corner. He felt like was on timeout.

Except, when he was a kid on timeout, he could start talking and earn yet another scolding from his mama on how he was to turn to the wall and zip his mouth shut. This time he could say anything and everything and no one would so much as bat an eyelash  because _no one could hear him_.  He would take a scolding any day over  this .

Over the last couple days he had followed Hunk around, and then the others- yes, the others, because apparently he was missing- and they even had arranged a sort of search party. It was a lot of things but mostly it was exasperating to testify- like rewatching an episode of C.S.I and staring as the team made all the wrong decisions while you knew exactly who the killer was and where the body was hidden.

But it was even worse to watch his friends worried- he hated making people worry. Had it been one of them he knew he’d be the same, but the minute the worry fell upon his person, Lance couldn’t help but cringe. He’d rather suck up a bleeding, open, chest wound than let anyone panic on his behalf or fuss over him.

He had actually done that once...

Nearly ended very,  _very badly_.

Anyway, what was he doing? Oh, right, he was watching Pidge type away on her computer, Hunk by her side, and Coran, his sister, Shiro and Curtis talk about him as they drank tea, like he wasn’t right there, next to them, _listening to_ _ everything. Which to them, he really wasn’t.  _

_ Oh, right.  _ He was also distracting himself from the fact that as it turned out, Keith  _really didn’t give a fuck if he went and bashed his head against a rock or something of the kind_ ( _something such as vanishing into thin air for a week now, that type of things_ ).

_ I thought you wanted to know... _

He huffed, turning his head to the side bitterly. He cared about Keith, a lot, and deep down he guessed... (he knew), Keith cared about him as well- all things aside, they were the closest of friends, but he also would have thought that he’d have gotten over something as pitty as a fight much quicker than this.

_ It was a really big fight... _

Still... He crossed his arms, looking down and trying to keep up the angry facade. It crumbled, wasn’t worth it- the struggle of maintaining it. No one could see him anyway.

His eyes watered and his heartstrings trembled, threatening to break forever. 

The ugly truth was he missed Keith, he really did. He kind of just wanted a hug from the boy, or a very awkward pat on the shoulder. Honestly, even that would do. Lance might have gotten used to his new predicament but it didn’t make him less scared. He had no idea what was going on, or why. What was happening to him? _Where was he?_

Despite the fact that his parents’ living room was currently filled with some of the most important people in his life, all around him- to which he couldn’t really tell a joke to, or just say the first thing that came to his mind just because he felt like talking,- he didn’t really feel much different. 

Quite honestly, he felt about as noticeable now as he did back then.

_ He’s never shone very bright. _

_ Not enough to be noticed at least. _

All those times he’d tried to say something funny, just to rise the spirits in the room- when the war was harder than ever, or when it wasn’t so bad but a mission had gone sideways- and it’d gone unheard. All those times he’d tried to be useful, tried to share whatever little insight he had -and it’d fallen on deaf ears. 

He could try to be as angry as he wanted but deep down it was sorrow that ate him away. Because all those times... Keith had rolled his eyes and grumbled under his breath whenever Lance told a bad joke, or he’d stop and stare a bit murderously whenever Lance wanted to contribute to a plan- but he was always the one who reacted.

He heard.

_ He always heard. _

And as their friendship blossomed, he always, always stopped and  _ listened _ . He listened like he cared. He listened like he actually enjoyed listening to Lance. _And he looked around in search of him when Lance was silent._

_ No one had ever made him feel so noticeable. _

That was the truth. But now... Well...So what if Keith didn’t seem worried about him? Lance had been nothing but egotistical and self-centered the past couple years.

He didn’t think he’d listened to Keith as much as the other way around.

Lance was an awful friend. 

_ He was an awful lot, that’s what he was. _

Sitting in a lonely corner of that room filled with voices, wallowing in his self pity, Lance heard it. He heard it and he could never not recognize it. He shot to his feet, momentarily forgetting the fact that he was apparently invisible and mute to other ears, and proceeded to panic.

_ Shit, shit, shit it’s him. _

When Keith appeared under the arch connecting the room to the entrance corridor, Lance’s world stopped. Keith was the same as that faithful night, if a bit more eye-baggy-ed, but his hair looked just as smooth, his clothes as crooked and his eyes as deep as always. He was fully dry and composed.

Lance swallowed thickly. 

There was something, something he could not figure out, lodged in his throat, that made it hard to swallow at the sight.

Keith looked around the room, and Lance swore his eyes seemed to stop right in Lance’s. It made his heart pound throughout his veins and the only thing he could hear was the rush of his blood in his ears. His tongue felt heavy and mouth dry so it hung open, allowing his breath to shakily be stolen.

_ Could it be? _

Voice small and cracking, eyes watery and stinging, Lance took a step forward, not once relenting his gaze on the other’s purple sight, his hands moving upwards, hopefully, on their own accord, “K-Keith...?”

“Keith!!!” 

His arms hung limply, purposelessly at his sides and just like that Lance was being pushed aside (once more), despite the fact that he really couldn’t touch or be touched. The irony.

Feeling rejected and knowing it was for the most stupid reason, he pushed past the hugging duo- quite literally through and past them- and went to sit halfway on the stairs, far away from all that ruckus so he could sulk in piece but close enough so he could peek through the handlebars and easily keep up with what was happening. 

It was just in time to hear Keith’s soft, “Hey Pidgeon.” Disgusting. It made Lance’s stomach want to throw up. 

He crossed his arms further.

And he watched as his friends reunited, as  he  smiled and laughed so sincerely and quickly apologized to Hunk for not having picked up his calls and that bitterness from the fight was coming back because  _ why could Lance never hear an apology like that? It felt like a curse. Throughout his life people never apologised for hurting him, they just pulled a different subject to move on to and Lance always let them, for as hurt as he felt. He always sucked it up and told himself it was okay, they were sorry, he didn’t need to hear it to know it. But damn did he sometimes want to- _

_ Stop. Breathe. Keith could never apologize to you anyway now could he? Nor can you to him... _

Lance grumbled under his breath, huffing a breath at Keith’s calm face. Why was Lance freaking out while  _he_ looked like it was spa day?! Nope, that was not happening! Lance was _not_ getting more wrinkles than Keith! 

He shook his head. His thoughts were a mess, one minute they were about something, the other they were about another subject completely unrelated. Maybe he actually needed to sleep?

Decided, he stuck his head out the pillars of the stairs’ hand bars. The least he could do, especially since he didn’t  really  have anything else to do, was listen to his friends’ apparant debate- even if just the mere presence of one of them was pissing him off, and the sound of his voice made him want to storm out the door and slam it closed so  he could hear Lance’s judging loud and clear with no need for words.

Unrealistic, he knew.

Lance couldn’t open the door, only faze through it, let alone slam it closed.

_ Am I a masochist? Maybe I am? _

_ Don’t think so... _

_ Well, then stop thinking of depressing shit only!!! _

“-there either.” Shiro was saying to all the people gathered around the table, “It’s a lost case, with all the rain that fell these days.”

“What about the city?” Keith’s voice sounded next .

“What part of we searched everywhere did you not get?” Pidge deadpanned. Lance loved that girl, he really did.

_ Yeah, Keith, which part did you not get? _

Keith’s brows furrowed momentarily, deep and riled, but no one seemed to take notice. It happened so fast, one moment there, one moment gone, you had to have a hawk’s eye to catch it. He crossed his arms, leaning sideways against the back of his chair, appearing as nonchalant as ever. Lance narrowed his eyes, leaning a bit forward through the bars he held in his hands.

“Look, I wasn’t here ok? You might have missed something.” He declared, shrugging.

Everyone was silent.

“You think we, WE, missed something after all these days searching and researching and re-checking?” Pidge sounded outraged. Lance knew she probably had a couple (many) hours of sleep missing. If not a whole night... She always did when she was stressed. It made him feel guilty that he was the reason this time.

“I’m afraid Number 5 is right.” Coran piped in, much calmer, “We have looked everywhere in a range that would allow Number 3 or someone else to move away from here. Came back empty armed, I’m afraid.”

“Empty handed!” Hunk corrected with a sheepish, nervous smile.

Meanwhile, Keith connected the dots. “Wait,” he began, “How would you-“ he trailed off. That was a huge distance in every direction, and, he hated to admit it, every minute the distance grew. Every minute Lance could be getting further away from them, whether by his own means or not. And it was impossible to have searched all that area of the country with just.... unless...

His eyes grew round, “You used the jets from the Garrison, didn’t you?” His finger pointed directly at his brother, not intentionally accusatory but decidedly surprised his usually collected, think-things-through brother would break the Garrison’s rules and take a fighter or more for an unofficial searching mission.

Before Shiro could respond, someone else stepped in, though.

“I did.”

Veronica McLain stared him down as she said it, the usual approachable face this time closed off and less inviting. She spoke without leaving room for doubt.

“I took a jet.” Everyone stared at her, but none looked shocked, probably having been aware of it before Keith, “Ran a scan on the terrain, I ID’d every face the system brought up, but none of them were my idiot brother’s.”

She looked down, picking up her screen which had started vibrating and stared momentarily at it before sliding a finger and returning it back to the table, face down. When she looked back up, she went on.

“Lance might be a doofus but what he’s not in dumb, he’s neither in weak nor insensitive. He would never just leave somewhere with our abuela so sick, he would never add that weight to the family. And he wouldn’t let himself be taken without a struggle or at least leaving a clue of some kind to help us find him.”

Keith stared silently, a fluttering inside his chest. He knew that, he knew it was true. Lance made himself look much dumber than he was, when in reality he was an excellent strategist. It was sad how the boy never really believed those things about himself. If only he were here listening...

The first real pang of emptiness filled Keith’s being, but he shook it off.

_ No. _

“That leads us to this.” Pidge declared, swiftly sliding her computer forward on the table so Keith could see it up close, and then turning it around so its screen could face him. Keith’s eyes narrowed as they were forced through the mess of numbers and codes and graphs, all in the same, dizzying shade of green. The gears in his head did turn, they really did, but Pidge was unarguably a genius, and the only thing he could undestand out of it was, “A GPS?”

“Yep.” She answered, popping the ‘p’.

He blinked.

“I’m sorry, I’m not understanding... We don’t have Lance microchipped?...” He paused, searching around for a clue in the others’ face, “...Do we?”

“Pidge made a system that can track someone, in this case Lance, according to the quintessence you insert on it.” Shiro explained from where he stood next to Curtis.

Keith’s eyes widened, his head snapping back towards the young girl. If that was true, then they had their problem mostly solved.

_ They could find Lance easily. _

_ Bring him home. _

The girl in question rose her hands quickly in surrender, “Ah ah ah, hold your horses!” She warned, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m still working on it, it’s not the easiest thing and it might... it might not work...” She swallowed thickly. 

“There’s so much we don’t know about quintessence... Thanks to Coran and his knowledge we have a better chance though.” Pidge gestured at the ginger Altean next to her with her chin while her finger pointedly tapped on the screen turned Keith’s way. “This was actually his idea, I just combo-ed it with the good old earth GPS.”

Keith quite honestly couldn’t care less who had done what. He was thankful for his friends and their big brains but there was one question at the forefront of his mind, making his fingers twitch in anticipation.

“How long until you’re done?” He questioned.

“Just another day or two.” She admitted, before turning to the boy on her other side, “Hunk’s been working on some portable devices. When I’m done I’ll transfer the program into those so my computer can work as the central for the data processing and bridge out to them. Of course, mine will have a major reach, but that’s obvious. As for the portable devices, they will allow a more specific and detailed research-“

“Hmm... Could you give us the shorter, baby talk version?” Curtis smiled sympathetically.

Pidge gulped in a big lungful of air. “Sorry, it’s just that, if this works it could be lifechanging technology. Just imagine what we could do with it!” She laughed excitedly, “For now I’m using the lions as a sort of a...” She looked around for the word, “checkpoint, since their quintessence matched ours. But if we managed to intruce wavelengths and even coding correspondent to all types of quintessence, from the most simple to the most complex, we could.... we could find missing children in a couple of minutes! We could develop planet security to a whole other level! We could-“

“Find Lance.” Keith casually added to the list, though the deep look in his eyes must have been precisely a bit too deep because Pidge (and everyone around the table) seemed to stop and blink at him.

“So?” He crossed his arms.

“If this works,” She planted her whole hand on the table, leaning forward and over it towards Keith, a confident smile occupying her momentarily surprised expression. Her eyes glinted madly behind her lenses, “we’ll find Lance in no time.Why? Because every time you touch something you leave your DNA there. In this case, everywhere you go, you leave crumbs and bits of your quintessence behind.”

She paused, waiting to see if he had followed her train of thought, “and thus-“

He did. 

_ He did _ .

His heart fluttered with hope, a small smile starting to tug at his lips this time.

“Thus we can go out with the portable trackers and follow the trail of his quintessence until we reach him.”

Everyone in the room seemed to find their smile contagious, and the heaviness in the air shifted into something lighter, more relaxed, if for just a short period of time.

Next to them, still unheard and unseen, Lance stood quiet and unmoving.

His gaze was settled on, boring into, the raven haired boy sitting next to him, mouth pressed in a thick line and brow furrowed, contemplative.

Just _staring_. 

His hand clutched at the chest of his shirt.

No clear emotion on his face, much less on his mind.

Lance simply _stared_...

...

It was easier said than done.

Of course it was.

For starters, it would really come in handy if those trackers were ready. For seconds, there was that vendetta the universe had against Keith that made it all never go the easiest way.

They had all headed out to try and still do some rounds in nearest the city before the afternoon came to an end and the cold, dark night plus the awful weather forced them all back home. 

By all, Keith meant himself, Shiro, Curtis and Veronica. Pidge had stayed at the McLain’s with Coran to try and finnish the program for the system and Hunk, too, had stayed behind (albeit contradicted, since he wanted to join them in the search as well) to give some final tweaks on the devices for the trackers.

Soon the day drew to an end, leaving them all exhausted from not having been any productive and silently discouraged. No one mentions it but everyone can feel the tension in the air, its heaviness, increasing. Still Pigde’s promise stands strong in their heads and, albeit more reluctantly to some, everyone agrees to call it a night.

This is actually where Lance makes an interesting discovery. 

Everyone’s staying at his sibling’s rooms at the Mclain household, and every room is already occupied. He watches as Shiro claps Keith’s shoulder by the front door but is too far away to understand their words. The basic lip reading he can do only offers more of the same, old words from the discussion his friends had had moments prior.

_ “Drive safe, okay?” _

_ “Yeah, yeah. See you tomorrow, old man.” _

_ “Goodnight, Keith. Love you.” _

_ “Love you too.” _

They’d tried an arrangement so everyone could stay in the same place, even if it meant sleeping on the couch in shifts, but for some reason Keith’s being a headstrong ass again and insists that driving all the way to Lance’s house is no big deal.

On one hand, Lance has to agree: his house has a far more comfortable, free guest bed and despite being nearly an hour away from his parents’ it is no otherworldly travel.

On the other, he has to agree as well, but with Shiro and the others: it’s late, it’s dark, it’s cold and raining and Keith should not be driving, much less on his motorcycle, through those conditions. He also doesn’t understand Keith’s insistence at not sleeping here, especially knowing he wasn’t picky for sleeping arrangements and had slept in far worse places.

Lance takes the time to note how his life suddenly became a football match- his friends play it and he watches, commenting on the sidelines like the announcers do, he holds absolutely no power over the end of the game. He’s completely taken the back seat.

It’s when Keith disappears outside the door, decided and unrelenting as always, and the sound of his motorcycle fades into the night that it happens.

An itch but not quite.

More like a pull.

He’s heading to his good old spot on the staircase when his world turns on its axis and he grunts, closing his eyes to fight the wave of dizziness and confusion. 

“What the fuck?!” 

Except when he opens them he’s outside, standing like a fool on the side of a dark, dirt road. Rain cascades through him just like the light of the approaching motorcycle. It zooms by and away from him and he knows it’s Keith because he never wears a helmet like he should and it always drives Lance nuts.

He’s breathing so fast he’d probably look like a chimney if he weren’t in his ‘Corner Dimension’ predictment. But it’s not like he’s got the time to get his head over what had just happened-  _I fucking just teleported_ \-  because it happens again, and again.

_ And again. _

“WHAT THE-“

He blinks and he’s gone, appearing somewhere else.

Now he’s not that dumb, so even in permanent summersault he’s able to reach one conclusion:

_ I can’t be less than a few meters from Keith. _

_ I can’t be less than a few meters from Keith. _

_ I... I can’t be away from... _

_ WHAT THE ACTUAL CHEESE?! _

He’s so outraged by that discovery that the whole teleporting thing somehow gets less and less important until it fades into the back of his mind- that or he gets a bit more used to it.

Really, what choice does he have when Keith’s speeding through rain and darkness, going well over the speed limit. He always does, especially when Lance sits on the back of the seat, fearing for his life, yelping and cursing and overall just feeding more wood into Keith’s amusement.

It was almost like he did it on purpose just to rile Lance up.

Scratch that, it definitely was.

And now he’s not sitting on the damn motorcycle nor does Keith know he’s there, on the other side of the rain that looks like static, but he seems to manage it just the same.

“I’m going to cut your pedals and gears, I swear!” Lance manages to scream out before appearing again somewhere else. His face is on fire, his cheeks must be red and his markings seem to glow in accordance.

And  _God_ ,  he feels so outraged, so insulted, so.... so shocked and scandalized and offended that he has to go through all of this, this wicked game for the universe, that he just... he just...

_ He starts laughing.  _

He laughs so much he doubles over, and his eyes close but tears still escape and he no longer sees where he appears at. He laughs so much he doesn’t know if it’s actually out of fun, pain or nervousness.

His cheeks start hurting and by the time he manages to calm down they’re at his house and Keith is dismounting his bike and Lance’s throat tastes a bit like laugher- _a bit like the sea._

He watches Keith hesitate before entering the house out of the corner of his eyes but ultimately doesn’t have the mind to think much out of it. 

It’s still pouring but it doesn’t wet him a tiny bit, just falls through his body. Either time is distorted in his litte timeout dimension or he’d spaced out for too long because soon the lights in his house are out and he’s left outside, in utter darkness.

So he sits, not having the guts to walk inside and confront his home space and his uninvited guest at once, too many memories, all too fresh. He might be unable to stray too far from Keith but it doesn’t mean he has to be all that close to him either, and that’s a distance he truly cherishes right then. 

The grass underneath him is soft, or he likes to imagine it is.

Lance falls back down and stares ahead.

He can’t see the stars with all the dark clouds up above so he stretches his hand and watches the rain fall through his skin instead. It’s an out of body experience.

His eyes start leaking, but he doesn’t cry, simply lets ithurt silently.

For the first time in days... no, years- for the first time in years he doesn’t think, just exists. 

His tears can’t mix with the rain.

...

The next two days are painfully the same for everyone. 

The first night he stays outside on the grass. It’s not raining but still he can’t see them- there are no stars in the sky. 

He dares to go inside his home on the second.

He sits in the corner with the fireplace, feeling numb, and closes his eyes to pretend he’s asleep.

_ Huh...This actually hasn’t changed... _

His eyes fly open then, head snapping upwards. The lights have turned on and his body jumps in place a bit- a soft scare but one that leaves his heart beating faster than light travel.

“-ce...?”

Keith’s on the other side of the room, standing in all his pijama glory with his hand over the light switch- black T-shirt because it is undoubtedly summer and not raining season, a grey pair of plaid pants falling crookedly down his legs, one leg scrunched up at the knee. His hair is the definition of bed hair, a wild mess of black framing his face.

Above him the clock on the wall marks 3am.

“Keith?” Lance frowns, straightening up where he sat. His heart keeps pumping relentlessly, but it seems to acquire a renewed burst of adrenaline when Keith’s deep, purple eyes frantically roam around the room, almost.... almost hopeful looking? 

And then the older boy is suddenly crossing the room to the nearest window, where he stops and pushes the curtains aside to peek outside. Lance follows him with his eyes, curiously and a bit worryingly too, and leans slightly forward so the fireplace doesn’t block his view. Keith’s acting stranger than usual.

Soon, he hears Keith’s heavy sigh and watches as the boy drops the curtain, stepping back and away from the window as he rubs his face tiredly. Lance’s heart aches and he stands. Keith is obviously upset and, a million fights or none, Lance has grown to be unable to stand the turned corners of the boy’s lips, the crease on his brow and the slumped tilt to his head and shoulders.

He suddenly just wants to reach out and touch Keith, give him a pat on his head or bump his arm against his shoulder. He wants to do something completely embarrassing for himself but fully worth it because it always makes Keith advert his eyes, trying to prolong his miserableness, and then fail completely when a snort rips out of his chest.

Keith’s at the door to his room now but Lance takes a step forward anyway. He somehow, even in his whole ‘ghost’ like existence, manages to trip over nothing  but air and a yelp subconsciously leaves his mouth. His cheeks catch fire, and he momentarily blesses the universe that no one could see that-

“Lance?!” 

_ Who?! Me? Did you just- _

Lance’s head snaps upwards then, shame completely forgotten. His eyes are both full moons and he feels like he might throw up. Did Keith just say his name? He said it like... like he saw Lance, or even like he heard him.

Keith’s standing on high alert, and his face is too serious, like the fate of the whole universe depends on him actually finding Lance’s presence somewhere in that house. His eyes are fixated on the corner with the fireplace, just where Lance stands frozen, at the exact level with his blue eyes.

No one says a thing for a moment.

Until Lance breaks the silence, “Keith...?” He says tryingly. He’s so nervous and hopeful and so full of adrenaline that his vision is tunneling.

But then Keith’s eyes tremble where they stare into Lance’s own, the purple shimmers to a darker black in the lack of light from his fringe and he breaks the contact.

For the second time, Lance feels the floor breaking underneath him.

_ Wishful thinking. _

When Keith turns off the lights and disappears inside his room, Lance pretends he didn’t see the slight tremors of the other’s hand as it clicked on the light switch, opting instead to hold his upper arms in his hands and retreat once more to his corner with the fireplace, where the world doen’t seem so big.

_ It’s also the second time Keith leaves him behind in the dark. _

But fortunately he’s asleep before he can realize that... 

He is...

_ Totally asleep... yes. _

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ending crushed me but don’t worry it’ll hurt more the further the story progresses hahahaha
> 
> Also ignore my failed attempt at figuring out how the vertical bars of a handrail are called in english lol I couldn't find it anywhere for some reason? Google Translator you have failed me :(
> 
> Anyway, I’m nursing a pounding headache now but I’ll try to start the next chapter tomorrow (and try to be less perfectionist because it takes too much time re reading what I’ve already re read XD)
> 
> See you next chapter friends!

**Author's Note:**

> I know it’s probable that not a lot of people are going to come across this or even like to read it but if you did and liked it then I’m all for hearing about it!
> 
> Please drop a comment or a simple hello! And please remember, constructive criticism only! I know there’s a lot I have to work on and we’re always learning so please, if you have a tip, drop it gently ^^ I’m quite anxious and it’s hard working it away.
> 
> Have a nice day!!! :D


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